


Caelum Lestrange and the Homeless Girl

by Harrysboots4ever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Rigel Black Chronicles - Fandom
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, Rigelverse, Ruse Reveal, The Pureblood Pretense, caelum hates you too, no beta we die like Caerry, ttf15 spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 24,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harrysboots4ever/pseuds/Harrysboots4ever
Summary: Fanfiction of the Futile Facade by murkybluematter. Book 5 but crack.Love to all the prolific Caelum fanfiction writers from the discord.
Relationships: Caelum Lestrange/Harriet Potter | Rigel Black
Comments: 239
Kudos: 265





	1. Chapter 1

The bell jingled as he entered the apothecary.

And there she was at long last. Wearing white muggle running shoes, so out of place that they practically glowed and brewing robes that were well made but cut for a completely different person. Her hair had grown but unevenly and it was as unruly as a bird's nest. 

But none of that changed the fact that she was obviously a pretty teenaged girl.

“If it isn’t little Miss Homeless,” he said. Because well, she did in fact look slightly homeless and if the Daily Prophet and his mother’s screaming was to be believed she had been homeless for four years. 

Harry looked up at him and he was shocked by how brilliant her green eyes now looked. They almost detracted from those slightly less atrocious bushy eyebrows. He hoped her new found feminine features hadn’t given her a swollen head.

“Somehow you’re even uglier than you were before, halfblood” he sneered at her.

“Lestrange,” she said flatly “how did you even recognize me?” 

Caelum stared at her. Had there ever been another teenaged girl at Mulpeppers? And one who looked like they dressed in cast offs from a bargain bin at that.

“Who else could you be?”

“What does that mean?” 

She looked completely confused. It wasn’t a look he was used to seeing on her face. She was holding a package, clearly on her way out the door and he desperately wanted to know what was in it. He needed to get her to stay a bit longer until he got a bit of information out of her.

“I’ve heard you haven’t been in America all these years. They’re saying you slept on the streets of London to let your pureblood cousin lark it up across the pond in your place.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Harry said growling at him. He was a bit surprised, usually this sort of banter wouldn’t get a rise out of her.

Caelum smiled sarcastically at her. “You know you could have crashed with me if you were so desperate.”

She stared at him. Now she was the one with the look of surprise. “You moved out of Dartmoor?” 

It was more that he had intended to tell her. “Well, what with my apprenticeship it was more practical for me to live closer to the Guild. I’m sure you’ll understand someday. Maybe you could even apprentice with me, I’ll need someone to clean cauldrons for me.” 

She eyed him calculatingly. It wasn’t a look Caelum was used to seeing on her face when she looked at him. It reminded him of the face she would make when trying to figure out how to substitute an ingredient or whether or not the price on jarred newt eyes was better than buying whole newts on sale. He didn’t like it.

“Homeless girl, clearly no one ever told you this when you were slumming it up in the alleys but it’s rude to stare.”

“How about a deal?”

Caelum eyed her with great suspicion. “Half-blood, if you have some sort of wild idea you should have shared it with me in a letter ages ago.” 

“No, no it’s a new idea and I only have twenty minutes before I have to be home.” 

“And what idea is that?” Mocking her pathetic curfew could wait until later. 

“I get an undisclosed favour that I can redeem at any time of my choosing. And you can buy any ingredients and equipment you want in the next ten minutes and charge to my school account. I’ll even help you carry it all out”.

His brain started to whirl. 

Finding accommodation he was fit to be seen in as well as making appearances at all the regular clubs, restaurants and parties had taken a toll on his trust. Until the next stipend for his apprenticeship came through he wouldn’t be able to outfit a home lab. And he missed being able to brew in private.

“Nineteen minutes.”

Caelum eyes her package suspiciously. “And what crazy half-blood idea are you working on now?”

“Partial modified long-lasting polyjuice potion. 18 minutes”.

He stared at her. And he knew he wanted in. The brat had him.

“15 minutes worth of purchases and I work with you on the new version of Polyjuice. For one favour. And you don’t ever tell Lord Potter about any of this, if he asks all the ingredients are for you.”

“Done.”

He walked up the the front counter, hastily summoning Mr. Tate and selecting the most expensive package for industrial potion equipment and ordering the supply lists from the Hogwarts school lists years 5, 6 and 7 without reviewing them. 

With a pointed look at Harry to stay put he headed into the back of the store with Mr. Tate, returning in a few minutes with two large crates. 

Harry ran up to rattle off payment instructions. 

Caelum snapped his fingers. A house-elf dressed in a Lestrange pillowcase appeared. 

“Yes, young sir?”

Caelum nodded to the cauldrons, stirring rods, school list ingredients and rest of the lab kit that Mr. Tate had just finished wrapping up. “Take all of that to the apartment”. 

The house-elf and gear flickered out of view. 

Caelum eyed Harry appraisingly, she looked tall and surprisingly sturdy for a teenaged girl. He placed one of the crates beside her and she placed her bag inside it and picked it up. 

“I’m not trusting these with a house-elf. We are going to walk these over to my apartment, it’s not far.”

Harry nodded her agreement. 

Caelum noticed that she hadn’t said a thing about his use of a house-elf that some would call against the spirit of their arrangement and that some would call outright cheating. 

They walked in silence to what appeared to be a modern looking apartment building.

Caelum reached into his pocket pulling out a key. “You won’t have seen anything like this before Half-blood, it’s spelled to open to the keyholder directly to their apartment. The most expensive apartments in Diagon Alley.”

She nodded still quiet and followed him through.

It occurred to Caelum that this was the first time he had ever invited anyone, let alone a girl into his apartment. The Lestrange house elves came and went occasionally but he had been the only one here these last few months. 

Harry was looking wide eyed around her surroundings. 

Caelum puffed up with pride. “Amazing isn’t it? Especially to someone like you whose been living in a hovel somewhere. You really should have said something and I might have been convinced to let you stay.”

Harry gestured to the spot near the entrance that clearly used to have a fireplace. “What happened here?”

Caelum laughed. “Well I didn’t want just anyone showing up whenever they liked. I had the fireplace removed and the apartment warded by my cousin. Unless you have a key it’s practically impossible to find this apartment let alone get in.”

Harry put the crate down on the floor and kicked of her hideous sneakers.

“What are you doing half-blood, you said you had to head home in twenty minutes and it’s almost time...”

She smiled at him. She looked beautiful when she smiled. 

He immediately felt very concerned. 

“I’m calling in my favour Caelum. This is now my home too.”


	2. Chapter 2

Caelum really wanted to torture someone. It’s too bad he didn’t know where the Pretender was. Caelum had a potion for liquefying someone’s insides and he had been itching to try it out. 

He had tried screaming at Harry, reasoning with Harry and threatening Harry and finally gave up. He was stuck with her in his apartment. And it was his own damn fault.

At his insistence she had scribbled a quick letter to her parents to explain that she was staying with a friend and would come home before she was scheduled to take her OWLs in August. She’d asked them to see if they could sign her up for the Herbology and Potions NEWTs too. Caelum would pity anyone in Lord Potter’s immediately vicinity upon reading that letter but he was too busy pitying himself. 

Caelum had left her setting up the new potions lab after instructing her not to brew anything, look anywhere, touch anything or leave. He supposed in a round about way he now had her as an assistant. The thought did not comfort him. 

Caelum took her letter to the post office for mailing and wondered how long it would take Lord Potter, Head Auror to trace his vanished daughter to his apartment on Diagon Alley. This was possibly both the worst and last day of his life.

He was going to die a miserable, painful death all for some free, barely better than generic brand cauldrons and a pittance of potions ingredients. Mr. Tate hadn’t even had anything really illegal, just some heavily restricted items that he shouldn’t have been able to purchase before receiving his mastery.

He apparated to Dartmoor Castle. It had been two weeks since he had seen his mother but suddenly he found himself missing her. Apparently there were crazier and more dangerous women out there. His mother at last had never tried to have him killed. Not seriously anyway.

He headed to the main living room. Regulus was sitting there looking pale and rather tired. 

Caelum supposed Lord Riddle had taken out a significant amount of anger on the Black family members who were supporters of the SOW party. It served them right. He had known from the start that was something off about the Pretender and they hadn’t listened. 

He had never bothered with party politics; it didn’t seem particularly interesting and besides, the guild was mostly an apolitical bunch. Half bloods and even mudbloods all over the place to boot. 

“Cousin.” Regulus looked up at him appearing significantly older than his thirty years. 

Caelum summoned over his father’s latest indulgence, a limited edition bottle of Firewhisky and two crystal glasses. He needed a drink. He downed the whisky, actually swallowing for once and poured himself a second drink before letting Regulus pour one for himself. His father would not be getting this bottle back. By the time this day was done everyone was going to be as miserable as Caelum felt. 

“And how does the day find you, Caelum?”

Caelum rolls his eyes. “I suppose you could say that at least my troubles are less substantial than yours, dear cousin. How goes the search for the Pretender?”

Regulus sighs. “I was here to talk to your parents about that though they don’t appear to be here and I’ve waited an hour already. The Ministry suspects the Pretender is from France, a bastard of an old wizarding line. Everyone has been pouring over genealogy books and lists of students eligible for European magical schools that could be the correct age.”

Caelum raises a delicate eyebrow. “And you suspect?”

“I suspect that the easiest way to find the imposter is with those who hid him.” Regulus finishes his drink. “Harriet Potter knows a great deal more than the rest of us do. Lord Riddle would do best to draw the secrets out of her.”

He gets up to leave. “Tell your parents I stopped by.” 

Caelum nods and pours himself a third drink. Right, he has a fugitive from Lord Riddle and Lord Potter and the Aurors building and alphabetizing an ingredients shelf for him at his apartment. It would be comical if it wasn’t absurd.

He summons a house-elf to bring him dinner. As he eats his seafood linguini he briefly considers bringing something back for Potter but decides she can starve. Miserable brat.

When he ready to leave he’s probably close to being too drunk to apparate safely but he doesn’t care. He’ll be dead soon enough, what difference can a splinching make, he’ll be just as dead with nine toes as ten. The house-elves shove an enormous wicker basket of what looks like fresh baking at him and he takes it. He takes the bottle with him too. 

He reappears in the middle of the street, five metres from his intended target, almost falling in to a puddle and curses loudly before stumbling over to his building.

Caelum fumbles for his key and turns the lock entering what used to be his sanctum. He leaves the bread basket and the bottle on the kitchen counter and surveys his apartment for damage. 

It’s quieter inside than he expects. Entering the spare bedroom that has now become the potion lab, he noticed his new ingredients carefully stored in shelves in alphabetized orders. It’s a solid collection of staples though he would have expected nothing less from lists put together by Master Snape. The restricted ingredients he now owns are stored in a smaller shelf to the side. He looks at them with some pride.

Lastly, the ingredients Potter must have picked for herself to carry out as well as well as what must have been the rest of her order are on a third shelf. Boomslang skin, lacewing flies, powdered Bicorn horn- these ingredients are for polyjuice potion. There’s an assortment of other ingredients here but he’s not certain what those are for.

He hadn’t left her any parchment and she’s taken apart an issue of _Which Broomstick?_ to write a recipe for “Modified Blended Long-lasting Polyjuice Potion” under an advertisement for the new Nimbus. It is the sort of thing a self-taught, mad, half-blood would come up with while living in a shack simply because no one had told them it was impossible. He’s never hated her more. 

“Partial Long-lasting Modified Polyjuice Potion” is the next recipe though it looks like it’s only at the beginning stages and it’s written on the paper bag from the apothecary. He notices a container of hair on the counter labelled simply “Archie” and shudders. Mad, completely mad this one.

Caelum stumbles down the hallway to what used to be his bedroom. The door is closed. He frowns. 

It’s not really his apartment anymore he supposes. Sighing he grabs his bottle and heads out the door towards the guild. Bannett, Pucey and Casillas are probably still in the apprentice’s lounge and he has nothing better to do than drink with them. 

It’s about 4 AM when Caelum wakes up. He feels entirely still drunk which is probably better than what’s coming next. Pucey is shaking him. “You need to get home before the masters start showing up,” he says, not unkindly. “Make sure you stop by again, that was a good time.” 

Pucey thrusts a sobriety potion at him which Caelum looks at with great suspicion. Pucey was two years ahead of him at Durmstrang and he wouldn’t put it past him to pull a prank of him. Casillas is a complete ass and he wouldn’t trust Bannett with his substandard American education to boil water for tea. “I don’t take potions from substandard brewers.”

Pucey laughs. “Suit yourself, let’s get you home.”

Caelum casts a refreshing charm on himself and tries to stand. The world is swaying. Pucey throws an arm around him. “I’ll walk you home.”

Caelum in this moment hates Pucey but isn’t certain he can kill him and hide the body while drunk and besides, home sounds pretty good right now. The house elves have probably dropped of ham croissants. Besides, his apartment is much nicer than anything that Pucey probably has and Pucey has a big mouth. 

Caelum allows himself to mutter enough information to allow Pucey to half drag and half carry him to his apartment door and open it. 

There’s a pair of white trainers by the door that Caelum knows are not his. He would never own anything so hideous and so muggle. Has the door malfunctioned? Caelum’s forgetting something but he doesn’t remember quite what it is until he sees it.

There’s a girl sitting on a stool at his kitchen island wearing his blood-red Durmstrang fisherman sweater. It’s long enough to fall almost to her knees. Her feet are bare. Her shoulder length red hair is slightly damp and she’s drinking a glass of milk and writing on a paper bag.

As Caelum and Pucey come closer the girl smiles at them brightly and Caelum suddenly recognizes her idiot half-blood face. She’s improved her hair but she’s still too oblivious to fix her giant caterpillar eyebrows. 

“Caelum! I was wondering where you were. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Pucey oggles at the girl, letting go of Caelum in his surprise. Caelum teeters unsteadily, almost falling over, and throws up into a vase. 

Caelum hates everyone.


	3. Chapter 3

Caelum is still dry heaving into the vase as he sees Harry smiling at Pucey and offer him a cherry scone. 

Pucey is staring at her long bare legs in a way Caelum doesn’t like but at least it’s distracting Pucey from her very distinctive eyes. 

Pucey’s introducing himself to her and asking for her name when Caelum finally snaps. 

“Get out of my house you miserable reprobate!” he screams at Pucey. 

Harry rolls her eyes at Pucey as if to say, “look what I have to deal with”. 

“Well at least I’m not the only one who puts up with this.” Pucey starts laughing and then his eyes widen. He’s staring at whatever she’s been writing on the baguette bag. 

“You’re working on restricting the effects of transformative potions.” Pucey’s idiot mouth is hanging open like a fish. He’s stunned. 

“ _We_ are working on restricting the effects of transformative potions and I told you to get out!” Caelum roars, any semblance of patience finally gone.

Pucey leans down to whisper something to Harry who immediately giggles. Who knew she did normal girl things like giggling. How does she find the time what with making a joke of Lord Riddle, inventing new ways of brewing potions and trying to destroy his life?

Pucey accepts the offered scone and walks out the door with a wink at Harry and a mocking half bow at Caelum.

Caelum glares at Harry. She doesn't appear to notice and she goes back to drinking her milk and scribbling on the paper bag. He is housing the world’s largest and most single-minded toddler.

"Pucey is a pureblood heir and he's too old for you," he finally spits out. It wouldn’t do for her to get any ideas. 

Harry raises a caterpillar eyebrow at him. "All he said was that if I started laughing you'd get even more upset." 

Caelum glares at her again, all dignity lost and storms off to brew a sobriety portion in his new lab. 

It's the most expensive potion he's ever brewed when you factor in the homeless girl he's been saddled with and whatever favour Pucey is probably going to require from him to keep his mouth shut.

By the time he's sober, showered, changed and given Potter an extensive and expanded list of rules (now including not to touch his clothing or talk to his associates), it's close to 9 AM. He throws a roll of parchment at her (otherwise he’s likely to come home to her scratching words on the walls) and heads off.

When he gets to his workstation he discovers that someone, probably the idiot American has left him a bunch of enchanted balloons that spew confetti on him before he can set them on fire. There’s also a book entitled "A Wizard's Guide to Continuing the Line" with Chapter 5 helpfully marked with a leather bookmark bearing the Pucey crest. He tries to incinerate the book but it has some sort of resistance spell built into it and the cover merely sizzles.

He smacks his head on the desk. Why is this his life?

Master Whittaker strolls in, peers at the book and the remains of the balloons and laughs. "You know, its good to see young people getting along so well. I'm still great friends with everyone I was with in the apprenticeship program."

He especially hates Whittaker, the smug git.

They work in silence.

A few hours later and he's invited for lunch with Aldermaster Hurst in his office. Things are looking up. Perhaps his work has attracted the Aldermaster's attention? He is after all the only apprentice worth a damn.

The Aldermaster smiles kindly as they exchange pleasantries. Caelum discusses his work on using shaped imbuing for magical transference potions and casually drops the news about his new side project on partial long-term polyjuice potion. 

The Aldermaster coughs slightly. "And that's part of what I brought you here to discuss. I did hear your fellow apprentices discussing a lady friend of yours with an interest in potions."

Caelum freezes. Death was too good for Pucey. What he needed was a good curse, one that would teach generations of Puceys to keep out of his business.

"And I was thinking it's been a few years since we've had a female intern and even longer since we've had a female apprentice or master at the guild. We would certainly welcome your friend to come join us in an appropriate capacity.”

Caelum opens his mouth and closes it before finding words. "The situation," he says finally "is very delicate and not public."

And Hurst smiles knowingly at him. "And I know how it is to be young and in love," he says wistfully. "But don't keep her a secret from all of us too long. After all, presumably the two of you will want to present your research here." Hurst takes a bite out of his sandwich and Caelum wishes he would choke on it. 

Casillas is the first apprentice to stop by. Caelum has grown even taller in comparison to his former fellow intern and is now at least six inches taller. The height different isn’t helped by the fact that Caelum entirely looks down on Casillas’s research. He’s heard a rumor that Casillas will be challenging for his master’s designation any day now and is excited to watch Casillas fail miserably. 

“You know,” he says to Caelum. “My girlfriend enjoys going out for dinner and I hate listening to her prattle on about tea sets and China patterns and nonsense. How about you bring your lady and we-“ and Caelum cuts him off with a stinging hex.

Bannett stops by next. Caelum has absolutely no respect for the American who spent two years at the guild effectively learning what he would have learned at a decent school had he been able to get into one. It’s no wonder Potter refused to go to America, she would have become a talentless nincompoop who couldn’t spell, just like this idiot. 

“You know Caelum, I had thought it was a bit odd that you wanted to spend the evening with us. Are things all right?”

Caelum simply glares at him. While he wouldn’t mind hexing the mudblood into oblivion his family can’t deal with any more scandal right now. 

“What I find helps is a tub of ice cream and just listening. Don’t try to solve whatever it is, just give her the ice cream and let her talk and that should fix things.”

Caelum kicks him out of the lab.

Pucey catches Caelum on the way out. Caelum is reminded of the difference between his Slytherin acquaintances and the Durmstrang rabble. A proper Slytherin like Pucey’s younger brother would have kept the knowledge of the girl for blackmail. Pucey and his other Durmstrang counterparts could only be relied on to cause random chaos. 

“You know, I didn’t think it was a secret” Pucey says cheerfully. “I mean she’s a pretty girl and she seems to like you. Must have been a year or two behind you at Durmstrang, I didn’t recognize her at all.”

Caelum eyes him warily and settles on part of the truth. “She’s engaged to someone else. Has been since she was a child.”

Pucey, the completely brainless git is stunned. “And she prefers you? Who did her parents sell her off to, a giant squid?”

Caelum’s magic is running low after a night of drinking and a day of brewing. He needs what he has left in case the Aurors try and kill him. He kicks Pucey and heads home.

He stops by Fortescue’s on the way though it’s not really on the way and he has to walk two blocks in the wrong direction for the ice cream. He tells himself he wanted ice cream anyway.

Harry is in the lab when he gets back to what is now their apartment. She is carefully bottling potions. She’s got four crates full and is about to fill her fifth crate with what looks like blood replenishing potion. Apparently she’s found the time to start a commercial enterprise but not the time to find her own clothing.

She’s using a dictation quill to label them and one of his family house-elves is patiently waiting to take the potions to wherever it is that they are going. 

The brat has fully made herself at home.

“Hello Caelum,” she says cheerfully. “Minny was just here picking up your laundry and offered to help me drop of my order for Mr. Krait”. 

The house elf who is apparently named Minny chirps up, “It’s no problem helping sir’s little miss,” clearly excited for new and different work.

Caelum breathes in and out and counts to ten. He thrusts the chocolate ice cream at Harry. She looks surprised by the gesture and then smiles at him. “Thank you Caelum. I think that Minny and her friends have prepared a lovely dinner for us though and it would be a shame to spoil it.” 

Caelum can only imagine the three course dinner by candlelight the little monsters have prepared for him and the oblivious Potter.

He is getting increasingly desperate. He needs her to go away.

“Would you like to talk about anything?” 

She beams at him. “Well, I’ve been struggling with limiting the chromosomal change in the Polyjuice potions to simply sight as the chromosomes I’ve isolated are connected to appearance as well so while I think I can change the overall vision the drinker experiences I don’t know quite how to do that reliably without changing their eye colour...” 

Bannett is an idiot.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry and Caelum are on the patio. 

After his one full day at the guild he’s thought better of leaving Potter unsupervised and he’s come home for lunch. Plus the apprentices at the guild are awful and he doesn’t want to risk any of them trying to talk to him at lunch. Potter at least understands potions for all she’s a mad, homeless, half-blood who has invaded his life like a flesh-eating slug.

Caelum’s never bothered to come out on the rooftop. There is no furniture other than a papasan chair he dragged out and a blanket Harry is sitting on. The blanket supposedly was woven from thestral hair and was a wedding gift from the Malfoy family to his parents. It’s worth a small fortune and it’s positively hideous. He was previously using it as a bathroom rug. Hopefully it gets destroyed by pigeon shit.

Harry had asked him what is the point of the penthouse if you don’t go outside and Caelum had thought, well you obviously don’t understand the point of owning a penthouse in an expensive, exclusive building. 

Caelum hated the outdoors. Brewing potions required a controlled environment. There is breeze out here, leaves and occasionally pigeons. He’s never previously spent enough time with pigeons to form an opinion on them but now that he’s been within a metre of them he hates them. It’s basically hell. There are some spells for outdoor venues that could probably help but he doesn’t know them and he’s certainly not about to invite Regulus over to cast them.

Harry is wearing another one of his enormous sweaters, (someone needs to buy the girl some clothing). This one has a giant D and the Durmstrang coat of arms on it and the sleeves are so long she’s rolled them up twice. 

Caelum didn’t like Durmstrang and finds it amusing that she’s been wearing sweaters from the most exclusive pureblood school in the world for the last two days. He threw them in the garbage as soon as he came home after seventh year but not surprisingly the house-elves saved them and moved them into the penthouse when he moved out of Dartmoor. He would have burned the sweaters one of these days so he tells himself he doesn’t care if the homeless girl wears them. Besides red is a good colour for her.

He’s noticed that the house-elves are slowly acquiring possessions for Potter; they’ve brought her a bathrobe, hair products, towels and bedroom slippers probably all taken from the unused guest bedrooms at the castle. They seem excited for a new project and holy hell is Potter a project.

The irony of being a half-blood in a Durmstrang sweater is probably lost on Potter who apparently is beyond formal education. He’d asked her about her OWL and NEWT review and she had just stared at him. She was obviously going to just write the exams cold. 

Would she even recognize that she’s wearing the Durmstrang coat of arms? He doubts it. She’s been so far removed from anything resembling polite society that she doesn’t even know what she’s missing.

Harry’s weighed down her parchment with heavy crystal glasses and is writing on it. There’s words, numbers, runes and pictures. He could swear that some of it is pure nonsense that she’s writing just to confuse him.

Caelum is trying to make sense of it all while he drinks sangria mixed from fairy wine. It’s wasteful, decadent and suits him perfectly. 

There’s a stack of books and research on polyjuice that he’s borrowed for her without asking for permission from his Master’s private collection and every now and then Potter stops scribbling to refer to one of the sources. 

Ten minutes ago the house elves showed up with lunch and Caelum shoved a plate at her when she didn’t leave her spot on the floor. She’s nibbled at some lettuce and carrots. 

Caelum reflects that having Potter as a house guest is probably a bit like having a pet rat that has learned some basic manners and commands and can run a maze really well and maybe do a dance to music but still has a long way to go to be fit for society. 

A pigeon slowly makes a move towards Harry’s french fries. Caelum has his wand out and he’s bored. Burn winged rat, burn. “Incendio.”

There’s a flash and something blocks his spell. He looks at Harry who hasn’t moved, said a word or even taken out her wand. So she’s shielded the pigeon wandlessly, soundlessly and effortlessly. Wait a minute...

“Half-blood, where’s your wand?” 

She takes a bite out of her sandwich and just looks at him. “I... lost it?”

He kicks her plate off the roof and storms off. Even dealing with those idiots at the guild is better than this. 

It’s four hours before he returns. He’s given it some thought and things simply can’t continue like this. Potter’s father might be a blood traitor but her family is in the Book of Gold and and she can’t just live in his apartment without a wand or pants like a house-elf. It’s just pitiful.

He stops by the first women’s store he sees buying the outfit on the display model and heads back to his apartment. Harry is still outside. At some point she must have grabbed more food; pigeons are feasting on broken off pieces of croissant knowing they they are unlikely to be blasted into oblivion. 

Caelum throws the shooing bag at her. “Get dressed, we are getting you a wand.” 

Potter looks extremely reluctant. 

“I hate getting wands,” she mutters and heads into the bathroom. 

“You’ve lost more than one wand?” Caelum screams at her retreating figure to no response. 

On some level James Potter is probably happy to be rid of this one. 

Potter emerges wearing the sweater on top of the new dress and Caelum figures this is the best it’s going to get. There were buckled shoes in the bag that while a bit juvenile looking are a vast improvement on the hideous trainers. He needs to burn those. She’s carrying the paper bag the dress and shoes came in.

“So, I was thinking,” Potter starts. “In case someone is looking for me I could turn into my raven form. But it’s registered you see so they would look for that too so I was thinking I could transform in to a raven and fly in the bag and you could carry me like that-“

Caelum grabs her arm and apparates them both into Ollivander’s. It’s rude but there is only so much idiotic blathering a person can take. He’s also not surprised that she’s basically a pigeon. 

It occurs to him that generally only small children come to Ollivander’s and usually with their parents. It’s not normal for two teenagers to be here. It also would have been out of the ordinary if he showed up with a bird in a paper bag so this is probably better.

Ollivander doesn’t appear to mind their breach of social niceties by apparating into his shop. 

The inside of the shop looks much like the only time Caelum has visited before. He hands his wand over for Ollivander to inspect. 

“Ah yes. Fourteen inches. Pine wood and dragon heartstring. Good for large and impressive magics.”

Caelum isn’t terribly interested. The wand is fairly common in his family. All of his mother’s family have dragon heartstring wands. 

Mr. Ollivander looks expectedly at Potter.

Harry smiles sadly at Mr. Ollivander. “It’s me, Harriet Potter, sir. And I’m afraid I’ve misplaced my wand. We were hoping I could get a replacement wand for just until I can use my old wand again.”

Mr. Ollivander frowns at her. “It may be difficult you know to win the allegiance of another wand with your previous wand still loyal to you. I know it gave your a bit of a hard time at first but a wand’s loyalty isn’t something you can just give up on.”

“I’m sorry sir, it just wouldn’t be possible for me to use that wand right now.” Potter at least looks a bit ashamed for once.

Ollivander looks at her critically. “Well we can certainly try to come up with something Miss. Potter.” 

The old man looks behind the counter and pulls out a dusty old book. The smell is so strong that Caelum starts choking. He wonders if it will linger on his brewing robes.

“It’s odd thinking I’ve used this book only two times in decades,” Ollivander tells them, “And both times for you Miss. Potter.”

Harry winces and eyes Caelum with concern. He rolls his eyes, he’s not sure what she’s worried about, he doesn’t intend to tell anyone at all that he’s taken this idiot to buy her seventh wand. 

Ollivander gestures for Harry to come forward and seizes her hand, pricking her finger with a quill and places it on to an open page in the book.

A new word appears beside her name. 

_Ebony._

“Well that’s interesting. Ebony you know is well suited for combative magics, an interesting change from holly, your emotions must have settled down quite a bit since you were last on my shop”.

And then a second word appears. 

_Phoenix feather._

Harry and Ollivander are both silent for a long moment.

“You know, I did tell you the last time that the Phoenix that provided the feather for your wand had only provided one other feather. A week ago it’s owner sent me a third feather. He must have known you would need it. I haven’t placed it in a wand just yet but if you’re prepared to wait we can have that ready for you today.” 

Harry nods and Ollivander putters off to work on the new wand.

Caelum has his notes from his mastery project with him and he hands them over to Harry who begins to read them. It’s quiet in the shop with only the sound of her quill and the delicate assembly of the wand. 

Occasionally she has questions for him which he tries answer, somewhat proud that he’s managed to do something to catch her interest. She might be mad but she’s also a genius.

It takes the better part of an hour for Ollivander to come back with the wand. 

Harry waves it and scarlet sparks fill the room like fireflies at midnight. It’s obviously a match.

Harry starts sniffling unexpectedly.

Caelum hands her a handkerchief. “It’s probably that disgusting old book making you sick,” he says with a dirty look at Ollivander.

He pays for the wand and apparates them back to the gate. 

They turn the key and enter. She’s leaning on his shoulder and he doesn’t entirely mind it for all she smells of moldy book and pigeon.


	5. Chapter 5

Today Potter is wearing his sweater from when he played on the Durmstrang Quidditch team. A crack from an opposing team’s beater’s club had fractured his skull at the beginning of third year and it had been a serious enough injury for his parents’ solicitors to send a junior lawyer to Durmstrang who demanded that the Headmaster keep the Lestrange heir from any further potentially lethal harm. 

Caelum had been unceremoniously kicked off the Quidditch team and mocked mercilessly by his fellow students. Damn his mother.

The sweater almost seems to fit Potter. It had a fur hood and lining for playing outdoors in winter and she’s neatly trimmed it down to make it appropriate for summer. For once the sweater is an appropriate length so you can see that she’s wearing shorts. On the back of the sweater reads LESTRANGE and CHASER in flashing black letters. His mother would have an absolute fit if she could see a half blood wearing the Lestrange name. He wishes he could send her a picture.

Caelum doesn’t really give a shit about house elves but it is pretty impressive they cleaned all the blood and brain fluid from the sweater. It was a right mess the last time he wore it. He has good memories of playing Quidditch in that sweater and it's nice seeing someone wear it even though it is Potter.

Neither of them are sure if the Trace applies to Potter. It’s never been an issue to him at Dartmoor. Caelum is certain that even if the wards didn’t prevent the aurors and the ministry from knowing what went on at Dartmoor that his parents and Lord Riddle would. Plus they’re not even certain of Harry’s age. Harry thinks she’s “somewhere between almost fifteen and seventeen and a half”. She “doesn’t keep track”. The growing list of things she doesn’t remember are slightly disturbing but he supposed she’s probably been experimenting on herself with potions for four years and it’s miraculous her brains aren’t more scrambled. 

It’s a good thing he’s decided to look after her. It’s a bit of work helping a lost soul like Potter but the Lestranges are a prominent wizarding family with old values and they have a duty to the less fortunate. 

Potter’s no longer enrolled in correspondence school so the magic exceptions for practice won’t apply. They can’t think of any other exceptions they could use. They agree that she should not do any magic with the new wand in the apartment until they have the wards checked. Caelum is going to have to track someone down other than his nosy cousin, apparently Potter has someone in mind named “Cursebreaker Will”. The name and that fact that Will has no office and can usually be found at a pub for lowlifes does not fill him with confidence.

Harry has taken to wearing her wand in a wand holster. It’s a good idea since she’s so prone to losing them. You can’t just keep expecting some damn phoenix to keep losing feathers. Those birds are apparently extremely uncooperative. That’s probably why Potter’s wand has a phoenix core come to think of it. He thinks that Potter should probably also start wearing her one pair of glasses on a string since she’s bound to lose those too sooner or later.

Potter doesn’t actually need to use the wand and Caelum spies on her throughout breakfast trying to keep track of how many silent, wandless spells she casts. Toast is buttered, chairs are pulled out, her hands are washed, the counter is wiped... it’s an endless list. He’s not even certain how intentional it all is.

It’s a Saturday and he has no plans so he helps her fulfill her work order. He tries to keep up with her pace but simply cannot imbue as many potions as she can. She’s let her employer know through the house elves that she has a trusted friend helping her now and he’s apparently been sending her more orders than is usual. 

After they run through the list of standard potions she provides an additional list of shaped potions. He’s completed her modified weightless potion before but there also a hair colour changing potion and a cheering potion now and he’s secretly pleased that he can complete both to her satisfaction in one try.

Once the work product is complete, labelled by dictation quill and sent out they start their experimentation on the Partial Long-lasting Modified Polyjuice potion. 

It says a lot about Potter that she can come up with putting a cheering charm into a potion and also come up with long-lasting polyjuice potion. The fact that she can come up with both and can’t understand why one should probably be restricted by the ministry and not written on the blank parts of old magazines and left lying around is probably the only reason she hasn’t been imprisoned. 

They start four batches of Polyjuice. The plan is to try four different versions of the modified recipe and to see how they all turn out. 

“Why sight Potter?” he asks suddenly. 

“Well”, she answers slowly, “I lost my glasses and I’ve been wearing an old pair that don’t quite work. It made me think, wouldn’t it be nice if I could borrow my cousin’s sight for a year?”

He stares at her.

“You know you could just get new glasses right? It would take about twenty minutes.”

She shrugs at him.

“I could see it’s implications for abilities as well though. What if you could become a Parselmouth or a Metamorphmagus for a year?” 

Harry smiles at him with appreciation. “Exactly. We could let the general public access family abilities that are rare and desirable.” 

Caelum eyes the jar labelled _Archie_. “And this is?”

“My cousin’s hair. Perfect vision and a metamorphmagus.” 

Caelum considers this. This kind of idiocy explained why the Pretender managed to fool everyone except him about being the Black heir for four years. Who would give away a whole jar of hair? The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was doomed if this was what they had to deal with.

“You realize that being a metamorphmagus must be a Black family ability. And you want to sell it off to any idiot with two galleons to rub together regardless of blood status.”

She shrugs.

Caelum grins. Well this will infuriate half of wizarding society including Regulus and his mother. “It’s a good thing you’re in hiding, homeless girl.”

After lunch he heads off with Potter’s directions and a vague description in search of Cursebreaker Will who sounds like a character in a comic book. 

He hasn’t spent any time in the lower alleys before other than with Potter. He tries the point me spell to take him to the Dancing Phoenix. 

It leads him by the most direct route but that requires cutting through yards and alleys. He is in a foul mood by the time he arrives and his shoes look even fouler.

The Dancing Phoenix has an open door. It’s just past noon and he expects patrons to be finishing up lunch meetings and business. From the outside it looks slightly more respectable than he expected it to but once inside it looks like a place criminals go to sell substandard cauldrons and organs taken from unsuspecting tourists. 

He looks around and settles on a pretty young woman at a table of other young women wearing far too little and too tight clothing. The look like the sort of mid priced prostitutes that actually bathe. He flips a sickle at her that she ignores watching it roll away. “I’m looking for Cursebreaker Will,” he says feeling like a complete idiot. 

Two of the other young women at the table immediately start giggling. One of them whispers something to one of the others and they also start giggling. It's a table of young, scantily clad women laughing at him. 

Caelum hates his life and all the events in it that have led up to this moment. He turns bright red. 

One of the young women takes pity on him and points to a tall gentleman with red hair and foreign style clothing seated at the centre table with a younger man who looks vaguely familiar. 

Caelum considers tossing the young woman another coin, thinks better of it, nods his thanks and walks over. 

The two young men eye him warily as he approaches and Caelum suddenly feels very alone. The one who isn't Cursebreaker Will kicks a chair out towards him. 

“Have a seat Lestrange.”

Well this isn’t good.


	6. Chapter 6

Caelum had been expecting James Potter to kill him (probably justified) or perhaps his mother (just because it was the sort of thing she would do if she was bored, not for any one particular reason). There was a chance that whatever Harry Potter was doing would kill them both but he took some comfort in the fact that she had spent four years brewing experimental potions and was intact (in fact she had enough eyebrows for two girls) and mostly sane. There was also Lord Riddle who was apparently ready to get rid of the whole Black family and given the little he knew about the true Black Heir and the general stupidity and obliviousness of the current Lord Black, Caelum couldn’t disagree that Lord Riddle probably had a fair point.

Dying in this dump though would be unexpected and undignified. Plus, he needed to survive at least another week or two to watch Casillas fail at achieving his mastery and have to continue to be an apprentice in complete disgrace. He’d even thought that perhaps he could smuggle Potter in to watch Casillas’s terrible presentation. Casillas had been a right terror to her as an intern and they could laugh at him together. It was going to be the absolute highlight of the month.

He sanitized the offered chair with a quick charm and sat on it. The redheaded foreign looking man was eyeing him like a newt about to have its eyes removed. The other young man looked familiar, obviously at least related to one of the pureblood families that Caelum associated with. He looked to Caelum like a lion getting ready to rip his throat out. Caelum was used to people hating him before they met him, odds are they’d run afoul of Bellatrix Lestrange at some point.

“Caelum Lestrange,” he said finally. “And I don’t believe I know either of you.”

The redhead extended a hand after a prolonged pause. “Cursebreaker Will, at your service,” he said.

The other young man was still sizing Caelum up. “Lionel Hurst,” he said finally.

Caelum made the connection at once. He was certain that the younger Hurst was not involved in the Guild. Probably a washed out failure and jealous of his betters. It all made sense now. Caelum needed to rub his success in.

“You must be the Aldermaster’s son, you know I had lunch with him two days ago.”

“So I heard,” was the curt reply.

Well, Caelum supposed, at least he wasn’t as obnoxiously cheerful as his father.

He turned to Cursebreaker Will. “I had wards put in at my penthouse and I need someone to tell me what exactly they do. And I need some warding done on my patio.” One way or another those pigeons were going to die. Curesebreaker Will would have to make some sort of exception for the Potter Pigeon.

Will raises an eyebrow at him. His giant pattered scarf and out of place desert attire make him look completely ridiculous.

“Can’t you just ask the person who put the wards in?”

“No.” Caelum is fairly convinced that allowing Regulus to set foot in his apartment again would be the cause of all manner of misery for everyone. It might even start some sort of war. He supposes he needs some sort of excuse and enticement to dangle at Will.

“My cousin put the wards in and he’s on the outs with my parents. You can send the bill for the services to my father.” That should do it. People loved sending his father bills. His father would sign anything.

Will sighs and hands him a piece of paper. “Write down your address and I can pop by tomorrow afternoon at around 1 PM.”

Caelum writes the general description and address of where his apartment is. “I’ll have to come down and lead you to it,” he says. “Otherwise you won’t find it.”

Cursebreaker Will looks at him like he is a complete idiot. Maybe Caelum’s wards aren’t as good as he thinks they are or maybe Cursebreaker Will actually knows his stuff. “I think I can probably manage.”

It feels like it’s his cue to leave. With a nod to both young men. Caelum gets up to leave. As he walks past the young women they start laughing at him again. He’s going to kill Potter one of these days.

On the way home he stops by the post office. His apartment is set up to prevent owls from delivering mail, it is all rerouted to the post office. His parents have splurged on a deluxe decursing package for him and he know that the carefully sealed box he picks up is safe to open.

The clerk gives him a completely disgusted look as he signs for it.

“You’ve had two Howlers sent to that address today alone.”

Caelum is startled for a minute. “And you heard what they said?” he asks hesitantly.

The clerk rolls her eyes at him. “We burn them upon arrival. They scream but not discernibly. We’ve provided a list of who sent the Howlers but the messages are not recoverable.” 

Caelum mumbles a thank you.

“I know you have the premium account but perhaps try telling your housemate to behave a bit better? This is a little extreme.”

This is all Potter’s doing.

He carries the box back to his apartment.

Harry is lying on a couch absently doodling a snake in the margins of a _Quibbler_.

Caelum can read the headline, _“Riddle’s Secret Children.”_

Caelum opens up the box and hands Potter a stack of letters and a list of deactivated Howlers.

She glances briefly at the list and tosses it aside. Caelum looks at it. It looks like Lord Potter has been sending a Howler every six hours. She doesn’t move to open any of the letters.

“You know, you should probably open those,” Lestrange says hesitantly.

Harry looks at them rather dejectedly. “Don’t you ever wish you could just ignore everything and everyone else for a few months and focus on potions?”

Caelum stares at her. His blood boils. “That’s literally what you’ve been doing for four years you lunatic!” he screams at her.

He grabs his own letter from the box and goes back to the lab to check on the four slightly different Polyjuice potions that are simmering away. Thank goodness for potions. At least potions make sense.

His letter is from his father. It is a curt reminder that the Black family (and the Lestrange family by association), is in complete disgrace and needs to show unity. There’s a reminder about the Malfoy Summer Garden Party (postponed due to circumstances until the end of July) that no one from the Lestrange family has bothered attending in years, a list of SOW networking events for the younger set and a reminder about the Rookwood/Selwyn wedding. His father also wants to know if he's seen a certain bottle of very expensive firewhisky. Caelum burns the letter under one of the cauldrons. 

Harry is still scribbling away on her magazine. She’s written _“my nayme is snek”_ under her picture of the snake. He hasn’t a clue what that’s supposed to mean. He wonders if the sheer idiocy of the magazine has made her fragile mind snap. He wonders if he should confiscate the magazine for the good of the potions community.

Caelum gets the ice cream from the kitchen and two spoons and heads to the patio.

“Come on brat, let's go throw things at the pigeons.”


	7. Chapter 7

Cursebreaker Will is staring at Harry and Caelum as though they’re both idiots. 

Caelum assumes that Harry is used to being treated like this but he is not. He is a Lestrange and the help at least need to pretend to respect him.

He should have told Harry to hide in a cupboard and had Regulus come check the wards and ban the pigeons.

“It is a very simple question,” Will starts again. “How old are you?”

Harry thinks about it. “Probably at least 16. Maybe 17. But older than 15 for sure.”

Will stares at her. 

“I lost track,” she says as though it explains everything. And it probably does to her.

Will keeps staring.

Caelum is getting increasingly frustrated. He’s on at least his sixth cup of sangria but it’s Sunday and even if it wasn’t he wouldn’t keep track.

It’s as if this red headed idiot has never met someone that didn’t know their own age before. Potter’s family is in the Book of Gold. What business is it of Cursebreaker Will’s if she doesn’t know her age? That was the whole point of being in the Book of Gold- riffraff couldn't question you.

“Well it looks like your cousin did a good job at any rate. The wards should keep the ministry unaware of what goes on in here and make it impossible to apparate into your apartment. In general though there is so much magic being used in this building that even without the wards no one would have caught any underage magic anyway.”

He eyes Harry again. “You still shouldn’t be using your wand when you’re out of school though until you’ve passed your OWLs.”

She beams at him. “I’m taking care of that soon.”

It’s obvious from the expression on Cursebreaker Will’s face that Will thinks she is completely stupid and utterly incapable of passing her OWLs.

“You’ll need at least a few OWLs to keep your wand,” he says in a slow and condescending voice. 

Caelum is outraged. Harry might be a scatterbrained, half-blooded pigeon vagrant but she is also a genius. 

The house elves have given her his favourite old cardigan with the Lestrange crest embroidered onto it. She’s wearing that over her dress and the buckle shoes. One of the houselves has done something with her hair and she looks perfectly respectable for once.

This criminal in baggy pants and sandals has no business implying that Harry’s just a common idiot. 

He’s about to start yelling when Harry grabs Cursebreaker Will’s arm and leads him out to the patio.

Cursebreaker Will eyes the empty sangria pitcher, broken wine glasses and flock of pigeons devouring the remains of breakfast.

The house elves had brought Harry a bucket of magic sidewalk chalk and she had spent the morning drawing animals on the floor. She was a terrible artist and the animals stumble around on their uneven limbs instead of running in circles and flying gracefully.

Caelum is willing to admit that the patio has seen better days. 

“You two should maybe clean up occasionally, that would maybe keep the pigeons away.” 

Caelum, who had drunk an entire pitcher of sangria that morning and smashed several wine glasses by throwing them at pigeons glared at him. 

“The house elves come by twice a day. We need something for keeping the pigeons away and the elements off of us when we work out here,” Harry explains quickly 

Will nodded seriously at the chalk hippogriff that was attempting to fly on the floor but kept falling on its face. “Work... yes. I can see that.”

Harry can sense an explosion coming from Caelum. “We were just looking to keep the open nature of the patio but limit outside elements like leaves and wind.”

“And the pigeons,” Caelum says insistently. “I was thinking you could set up a ward around the patio so that they incinerate when they enter our territory.”

He points at Harry, “this one is also a pigeon sometimes though and she needs to be able to get in and out. So you have to create an exception for her. Maybe a pigeon sized door that only she can open.” 

Will stares at them both. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Caelum glares. Obviously this isn’t a joke, how will he get more Arcturus hair for experiments if the wards incinerate Pigeon Potter. Not to mention that the four batches of experimental Polyjuice have nearly a month left to go. 

Harry looks pointedly at Caelum. “I think maybe it’s time for a sobriety potion, there’s still some leftover from Thursday.”

Caelum storms off muttering about rude pigeons and criminals that don’t know when to shut up.

Will coughs. “Is everything alright, miss? You know, I have a sister just a bit younger than you.”

Harry nods happily. “Everything’s a lot better than it usually is.”

She lets Will start his work and walks inside humming. Time to check on the Polyjuice.

A few hours later and they’re sitting outside on the thestral blanket in their newly re-warded patio enjoying the sun. They’ve been inspired by Cursebreaker Will’s ridiculous costume and have transfigured the broken glass into giant white and gold pillows. 

There are still pigeons but the house elves have brought them a bird feeder and a truce has been reached. Caelum suspects that Harry has sneakily gone into bird mode and tried to reason with them but he’s doesn’t want to ask. He’s come so far in the last few days in gaining respect for Harry and doesn’t want to lose it all because she negotiates with pigeons.

Caelum and Harry are going through Harry’s mail. She’s tossed him all the school packages and he opens them with great relish.

“Look, it’s a personal letter from Master Tallum inviting you to apply to the potions steam of the American Institute of Magic. You could learn how the common people brew introductory potions using words, gestures and wands.”

Harry rolls her eyes at him. “They have some good and innovative programs there you know, just not potions.”

Caelum snorts with laughter. 

“Ilvermorny.” 

Harry doesn’t know anything about Ilvermorny. “How bad could it be?”

Caelum flips through the package. “Pretty bad probably but they have an Excellence in Potions Cup so they’re not completely stupid.”

Harry opens up her letter from Archie. 

Caelum eyes it curiously. “What does he want and when is he sending more hair?”

Harry shrugs, “You can guess most of it, James and Lily are furious and his friend from AIM is visiting him so everyone’s angry but trying to keep it in check so she doesn’t feel awkward.”

“She?” Caelum asks curiously. 

“Hermione Granger, one of the muggle-born champions from the tournament. Archie’s in love with her.”

Caelum snorts. The House of Black is indeed not worth saving from the wrath of Lord Riddle.

Harry opens the next few letters quietly. Caelum recognizes a few of the senders from the stamps on the wax seals. Parkinson, Rosier, Zabini, Bulstrode...

“What do that lot want?” He’s surprised she even knows them.

Harry shrugs. “They’re subtle but they’re just looking for news on Rigel.”

Caelum rolls his eyes. 

Harry looks over at him curiously. “You know, you’ve never asked a thing about Rigel or what happened to him.”

Caelum stretches on the blanket. “And I never will.” He can’t imagine anything less interesting to talk about when he’s got Harry here.

Harry leans against him and closes her eyes. In a minute she’s asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

On Monday, Pucey is waiting for Caelum in his lab, brandishing a piece of paper like he’s holding a voucher for a million galleons.

“The promised day has come! Casillas is presenting his final project for his mastery on Friday.” 

Casillas is the first apprentice at the Guild to attempt to claim a mastery in years. His success, if there is a success, reflects well on Hurst’s leadership, the internship program and the Guild as a whole. Caelum and Pucey don’t actually care about any of that and are rooting for Casillas to fail miserably because he is a pompous git and they hate him.

Caelum is tremendously looking forward to eating terrible food, enjoying the open bar and making fun of Casillas’s presentation which is surely to be as pointless and mind-numbingly boring as Casillas’s work during his internship.

However, he does need to get Harry into the Guild for this momentous occasion without Lord Potter finding out and killing him. And he’s not entirety sure how to entirely ensure his own safety. 

He eyes Pucey warily. Pucey isn’t a bad sort and has absolutely no ambition or political involvement other than his father being a member of the SOW Party and his younger brother being a regular attendee at SOW social functions. Pucey himself doesn’t attend anything though. Due to his attendance at Durmstrang he’s quite isolated from the Hogwarts alumni their age. 

Pucey is also completely stupid which makes him a prime candidate to be tricked into doing something. 

Caelum smiles at Pucey as though he’s offering him a slice of birthday cake. A smart man would run. Pucey isn’t that smart.

“Pucey, we’ve been friends for a long time haven’t we, since school in fact? Wasn’t Durmstrang such a fantastic time?”

Pucey nods cheerfully. He’s one of those idiots that are always happily reminiscing about Durmstrang Institute even though it’s a cold, miserable place where almost no one speaks English and the sun quite literally doesn’t shine.

“Remember when you wanted to meet my flat mate? You can come back to my apartment with me for lunch and meet her but you have to keep her name and anything that could identify her a secret. But I need something in return.”

Pucey looks even happier than he did a moment ago. “What’s that then?” 

Caelum smiles. “I want to sneak her into the Guild for Casillas’s presentation and I need you to help with part of that. So just a small favour.”

Pucey accepts so quickly that Caelum regrets not asking for three favours. 

A minute later Bannett runs in waiving the flyer. “Did you hear about Casilllas? Isn’t it grand?” He seems genuinely happy for Casillas. Pucey and Caelum roll their eyes at each other. Stupid American. 

Pucey and Caelum find Harry on the patio. She’s back to wearing the Durmstrang fisherman sweater. It’s raining outside but the patio is sunny and she’s bathed in light. 

There are pigeons eating the crust off Harry’s forgotten toast from breakfast and she’s writing down her observations about her morning experiments with modifying Archie’s hair. Caelum gives the pigeons a threatening look before turning back to Harry.

“Pucey this is Harriett Potter. Harry this is Ajax Pucey.”

Two house elves pop into view with an enormous plate of sandwiches and raw vegetables. Another one pops up with a pitcher of pumpkin juice and glasses.

Caelum picks up a sandwich, takes one bite and spits it out. He opens it with indignation written all over his face. 

“Bacon, peanut butter and bananas?” 

Harry rolls her eyes at him. “I didn’t know you were coming or that you were bringing company. There’s some fried chicken and waffle sandwiches in there too.”

She smiles at Pucey who hasn’t stopped leering at her.

Caelum feels sick. It’s probably the sandwiches. He’ll have to speak directly the house elves about decent, respectable catering.

Pucey flops down on the blanket next to Harry. Caelum can’t blame him for prioritizing a pretty girl over food poisoning. 

However, there was a deal made and Pucey needs to eat something.

Caelum flings a sandwich at Harry and Pucey. It hits Pucey’s leg. Pucey opens up the waffles with a bemused look on his face and eats a piece of fried chicken.

“And now for your end of the bargain. We are going to smuggle Harriett into the Guild for Cassilas’s presentation. And if Lord Potter catches us you have to say that she’s living with you.”

Pucey chokes on the fried chicken. 

“Don’t die yet, you idiot,” Caelum yells at him. “That would defeat the whole point of bringing you here.”

Harry rolls her eyes at both of them and goes back to writing her notes.

“So, how long are you going to be here Harry?”

Caelum and Pucey have finally stopped yelling and throwing sandwiches at each other. There’s bits of bread, bacon, banana slices and chicken everywhere. 

She smiles at Pucey. “So it’s been five days so far. The Polyjuice will take almost four more weeks so I’m planning to stay here until my birthday and then I’ll head home. Caelum and I can spend August analyzing our samples.”

Pucey frowns. “Why your birthday?”

“I was thinking I’d get in less trouble if I went home on my birthday.” 

Pucey and Caelum exchange looks. Lord Potter is probably apoleptic. It won’t matter when she goes home. 

“Couldn’t hurt I suppose,” Pucey offers.

They all go to the lab to admire Lestrange’s collection of restricted ingredients and the four cauldrons of different varieties of Polyjuice potion simmering away. The potions are on day two and not particularly interesting at this stage but Caelum, Ajax and Harry can all appreciate the simple beauty of the green lacewing flies floating in their cauldrons.

They sip their pumpkin juice in silence as the potions stew. Sometimes life is just really good.

Pucey has taken their secret to mean that they are in fact friends. Caelum and Pucey walk back to the Guild together and Pucey insists on showing him his research.

Caelum had never bothered to find out what Pucey is working on but apparently he is studying Felix Felicis. It’s one of the most expensive potions to brew and he’s somewhat envious that Pucey has figured out a way to obtain the ingredients. Caelum won’t admit it but he’s never brewed Felix Felicis before. 

Felix Felicis takes six months to brew and Pucey has potions at the one, three and almost six month stages. Caelum can almost start seeing the droplets jump in the most advanced potion. 

There’s another cauldron brewing a similar looking potion with flecks like goldfish jumping out of it. It’s labelled Experimental Formula 14. 

Caelum looks at Pucey questioningly. 

“Well that’s my real project you see. Same consistency as Felix Felicis so it looks identical. I don’t think a lay person could tell the difference. Took ages to figure out how to do that. It does the opposite of Felix Felicis though you see? You have an absolutely terrible time.”

“That’s it?” Caelum asks. It sounds more like the sort of thing you’d buy at a joke shop.

“Well I’m pretty sure you die at the end of the terrible day. I’ve only tested it on frogs and they’ve all been miserable and then died after twelve hours. There’s probably a market for it if it works on people but I don’t really think the ministry will approve it for testing. I think I’ll just give it to my Dad and tell him to give it to someone he doesn’t like and to let me know what happens.”

Caelum rolls his eyes and sighs.

They head back to the penthouse at the end of the day. Caelum is convinced the experimental potion is completely stupid other than that one aspect- making one potion look, taste and smell like another potion is actually fascinating.

He wonders how Pucey has figured out how to do something so impressive and then reduce it to making the world’s most expensive and slowest acting frogicide.

He’s surprised by voices coming out of the lab. Has Harry started talking to herself? Or worse is she making friends with the pigeons?

He opens the door and there’s Harry standing over two cauldrons of what looks like Potentialis nearing completion. 

Pucey nods approvingly, “Well that should be an adventure, I remember taking that five years ago. It’s surprising honestly how much a potion can tell you about yourself, especially things you didn’t want to find out.”

Caelum looks over at the fourth figure in the room. “And you are?”

The brown haired girl is wearing what looks like healer’s robes and a sour expression. She frowns at him. 

“Hermione Granger.”


	9. Chapter 9

Caelum has only met three people, (possibly only two, he hasn’t figured out if he’s actually met Arcturus Rigel Black), who’ve gone to American Institute of Magic and they’ve all been terrible people. They should all be forced to stay in America. Or maybe AIM should just be burned down if this is the quality of student they produce. If he ever gets dragged to one of those stupid SOW events his Father keeps telling him to go to he will be sure to bring this up. 

Granger is not happy about the jar of Archie's hair.

Caelum is not happy that Harry just leaves a jar of hair labeled _“Archie”_ lying around and then brings riffraff into his penthouse to comment on it. Restricted ingredients belong on a shelf. Alphabetized. Riffraff belong outside. Banished by blood wards.

“You can’t just keep talking his hair and experimenting on it.” 

Harry is stunned. “But I asked him and he gave it to me. I didn’t just take it. He knows it’s for experiments. He’s given me his sweat and blood before too.”

“You’re using him! You know he won’t say no to you!”

Harry looks like she’s considering this. 

“Well, he can make more blood, hair and sweat. He’s always been fine with sharing with me.”

Granger is glaring at her. “And does he know that you’re planning to brew four cauldrons worth of Polyjuice with it?” 

“He doesn’t really ask? I don’t think he would be interested. His eyes just kind of glaze over when I talk about potions.” 

Harry sounds completely mystified. 

“What do you even need Polyjuice for anyway? Archie said you were all done with trading places.”

“Well, I’m not trying to Polyjuice as him. Obviously that’s illegal. We are working on a modified, long-term partial Polyjuice. We’re just trying to make a potion that replicates his sight. Or his metamorphmagus ability if we can manage it. We aren’t replicating any part of his appearance.”

“Is that all?”

“Well it’s not going terribly well. We haven’t figured out the charm to isolate the right chromosomes yet. It has to be exact. That’s why we keep needing more hair.”

Granger looks extremely angry at this point.

Caelum is quite fed up with this mudblood person. He cuts in before she starts yelling again.

“Look. You can’t just come to my penthouse and yell at my pigeon. And besides, my cousin had some half blood Polyjuicing as him for four years, he’s not going to care if we start selling his vision to the masses now.”

Pucey nods cheerfully. “They’re pushing the field. You’re a healer? Imagine all those people who buy this incredibly overpriced potion being able to see for a year without glasses.” 

“Hasn’t anyone ever talked to any of you about ethics?” Granger snaps at him shrilly.

There’s silence. Pucey knows the most about the ethics of potions, mostly because neither of the other two know anything about the ethics of potions. 

“Well, we’re supposed to tithe the Guild once we graduate. Commit to donating a percentage of licensed potion fees if we create something. Take on an intern or apprentice occasionally. And we’re supposed to send whisky to the apprentices a couple times a year.”

Granger is incredulous. “That’s it?”

Pucey shrugs. “Well I feel like they should send us sobriety potions with the alcohol but maybe they think it’s good practice for us to brew our own. I mean the supplies are right there at the Guild and you can brew the potion half drunk.”

“Don’t any of you care what people do with this potion you’re creating?”

“No.” All of them agree on this point. 

“Just doesn’t seem like my business Hermione.” 

Harry is trying to be kind about this. 

“I mean once they’ve bought the potion they can do what they want with it. It’s their potion.”

“Don’t you feel responsible at all? People could do bad things with the morphing ability all because of your potion.”

Harry sighs. “If someone does a bad thing with a potion, they did the bad thing Hermione not the potion and certainly not the brewer.”

Granger looks furious. “I’m going to tell Archie to stop sending you his hair.”

Harry just shrugs and pours some of the first cauldron of Potentialis into a vial. She vanishes the rest.

“If Archie doesn’t send us his hair we have to find someone else with good vision whose willing to provide hair and start from the beginning on the charms. We might not be ready in time for this batch of Polyjuice. But we will figure it out eventually.”

Caelum grabs a chopping knife from the table and pokes Pucey’s arm with it. 

“Ow.” It says a lot about the experience of seven years at Durmstrang that Pucey is completely indifferent about being stabbed.

Hermione rushes over to take a look at Pucey’s arm, cleans the cut and then heals it.

“What is wrong with-“

“See,” says Caelum triumphantly. “You’ve fixed him. He’s working on brewing a potion that kills people twelve hours after drinking it so it’ll be your fault when he starts producing it to order.”

Hermione opens her mouth to start screaming at him and Harry decides it’s time for her to go. She hands her the potion and grabs Hermione’s arm to lead her to the door.

“Just make sure you take that with someone around, maybe Lily or my Uncle Remus. They’ll help you interpret the results. Let me know how it goes. I’ll read my owl post on Sunday.”

Granger stands her ground by the doorway. “I better be off before they start wondering where I am. I’ll send you another owl soon about where and when we are meeting up again for our project. I expect that you will have made a lot of progress on it.”

It’s obvious that the comments aren’t entirely directed at Harry.

She glares at Caelum and Pucey. 

“You are both terrible people and you are bringing out the absolute worst in her. Harry has led a very sheltered life and you should be ashamed of yourselves.” 

Caelum doesn’t care. He’s been called far less pleasant things by people who aren’t mud-bloods. 

“Harry better be completely fine the next time I see her.” 

Caelum rolls his eyes. If Harry isn’t exactly the same as she is now by the end of the week it’s probably because she’s blown herself up or taken one of her own damn potions. 

Harry walks Granger to the door. 

Caelum shudders. “Can you imagine my idiot cousin prefers her to Harry?”

Pucey shrugs. “Something to be said for knowing that your hair is safe.”

He frowns. “What the hell did Harry want your cousin’s sweat for?”

Caelum shrugs. Harry is a strange one but at least she’s a kind of strange that they mostly understand.

Harry walks back over towards them. 

“What are you working on with her?” Pucey asks curiously.

Harry yawns. “It’s not potions related.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not doing very much, it’s mostly her project and she’s only just asked me for some help.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, she’s going to cure the Fade.”


	10. Chapter 10

Caelum has gone back to his research with a renewed enthusiasm. Casillas might become a Master on Friday. Pucey has three cauldrons of liquid luck brewing and has probably developed a way of killing half of magical London by substituting household potions for poisons if he ever catches on. The mud-blood girl is curing the Fade (Harry had refused to give them any more details as it “wasn’t her project”). And who even knows what else Potter has going on aside from assisting Granger, Polyjuice, OWLs, NEWTs and her potion brewing business.

He’s distracted by a snowy owl. He takes the letter from her and shoos her away.

The letter is from the Post Office. Apparently in the last two and a half days twelve more Howlers have arrived for his house guest. The Post Office wants to discuss the situation with him in person. Otherwise they’re going to escalate things with his mother.

They clearly don’t know his mother. Escalating things with his mother will end badly for everyone.

Caelum rolls his eyes at the general stupidity of James Potter. Well yes, obviously Harry is go be inclined to go home after hearing that she’s still receiving Howlers. Good thinking Lord Potter.

Caelum heads to Post Office just before closing time. The postal workers all know who he is when he provides his account number. A number of them gather at the counter to berate him.

They hate him. The want him to know how horrible he’s made their lives. There’s been another Howler since their letter. His household apparently now accounts for ten percent of all Howlers sent to residential addresses. They want him to tell his friend to behave better. They think it’s disgraceful that young witches and wizards run around behaving so abominably. They think that the contract was entered into under false pretences - why would anyone get this many Howlers?

Caelum is sick of nodding as they blather on.

Feeling he has no choice because sooner or later they are going to contact his mother if this keeps up, Caelum agrees to a blocking spell for all correspondence from James Potter. Now the Howlers for Harry Potter will be sent back to Potter Manor once they reach the Post Office. Unfortunately anything else Lord Potter sends will also be blocked.

Caelum doesn’t really know how Harry will feel about any of this. However, Caelum figures that this has reached the point of harassment and as there is no one to report harassment from the Head Auror to, especially not when you’re a Lestrange, stopping all communication from James Potter is entirely justified. He’s not really sure how to explain any of this to Harry though.

He has a weird niggling feeling in his chest and can’t quite place it. He accepts his box of mail, (it’s probably all for Harry), and heads back to the Guild. 

Caelum ends up spending the evening with Bannett. The American needs his opinion on something so Caelum is persuaded into helping him instead of turning Casillas’s lab into a swamp which was his first plan for the evening.

Bannett it turns out is working on more accurately calculating dosages of potions for children based on age, gender, weight and magical core maturity. His lab is filled with charts and tables and there are shelves upon shelves of household potions like Nutrient Potion and Skele-Grow. Bannett’s goal is to create standardized tables of correct dosages that all medical professionals will be able to reference and to write a book for easy reference in homes. 

Caelum is not surprised that this is the sort of thing that Hurst’s apprentice is working on. Or that the same school produced Bannett and that loud mud-blood Granger.

The work is of no interest to him but it’s far reaching potential is certainly beyond anything any of the other apprentices are doing. In a hundred years everyone will know who Bannett was. Will anyone remember him? It’s a chilling thought and Caelum needs to think about other things.

It’s a good thing that life always has distractions.

Bannett has a bottle of White Rat Whisky in his lab. Apparently it’s supposed to be a gift for Casillas. Caelum helps himself, vanishing every other glass after tasting it until the bottle is empty. How could he not drink something that was going to be a gift for Casillas?

Being the good natured mud-blood that he is, Bannett somehow drags Caelum and the box of mail back to the penthouse and doesn’t even complain about the stolen whisky.

Caelum staggers around the apartment wanting to show off something but not being able to form sentences properly. He needs something impressive that he won’t have to explain. Bannett is an American and probably has never seen a decent wizarding flat before. He hauls Bannett out onto the patio.

On the patio you can see the night sky containing an impressive number of constellations and shooting stars. There’s also a full moon. It’s a beautiful bit of magic. Caelum is proud of it; he didn’t do the magic but Lord Lestrange did pay for it so that counts for something.

He settles down on the thestral blanket and sees a lone pigeon eating a strawberry. 

“Harry!” 

The pigeon keeps pecking. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

Bennett is talking now. His accent is even more ugly and annoying that usual. 

“Lestrange, that’s just a stupid pigeon. Let’s get you a nice sobriety potion.”

Caelum is indignant, “Only I can call her a stupid pigeon you filthy-“

The pigeon flies away.

“No!” Caelum attempts to stand up. He has things to say to Pigeon Potter and needs to get her back. He falls over.

Someone shoves a potion into his hand and forces him to drink it. He can feel himself slowly become hungover and then the gradual slide into sobriety. 

Harry is sitting beside him looking annoyed. “My animagus form is a raven not a pigeon.” She’s wearing his favourite old cardigan over her night dress. 

Caelum rolls his eyes and leans back. “It’s the same dratted thing.”

“They’re completely different.”

Bennett quietly leaves. It’s just the two of them now on the porch.

Caelum isn’t really sure what to say. It doesn’t seem to be the time to tell her that he’s had to block all communication from her idiot Father. Or that Bennett might secretly not be a complete waste of space.

Harry coughs. “I took my Potentialis Potion. I’m a Parselmouth now.”

Caelum doesn’t know what to say to that either. What would anyone say to that?

“Don’t lead with that when you see Lord Potter again.”

“I can ask the snakes for their venom now,” she says happily. “I’m going to save so much money.”

Caelum shakes his head. The girl is truly obsessed with potions. She’s positively gleeful. 

“We can experiment on my hair if Hermione won’t let Archie send any more. Or maybe I can get him to start sending fingernails instead.”

“Pigeon, get some sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note:
> 
> This story is mostly crack and highly influenced by the Discord Harry Get Some Sleep. If there is a good idea here I’ve probably stolen it. 
> 
> This is a story about how Caelum and Harry secretly are perfect for each other. 
> 
> This is also a story about how much I hate pigeons.
> 
> We are slowing down to an update a day. There will be editing. 
> 
> There will probably not be kissing. This is not a kissing story.
> 
> Thanks for following. Ten little chapters already, it’s been wild.


	11. Chapter 11

“You’ve been an apprentice for how long? And you didn’t think to mention it?”

Caelum is incensed. If she’s been an apprentice for the last year and a half she’s been an apprentice longer than him. That makes him the Guild’s most junior apprentice. And Harry the Guild’s youngest apprentice ever.

What’s worse is that he confided in Harry about trying to get his own apprenticeship with Whitaker when she already had an apprenticeship and she never let on. Had she been feeling sorry for him?

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know how real it was?”

Caelum stares. Why is everything like this with Harry?

“Either you are an apprentice or you’re not,” he says with some finality.

“Well my apprenticeship was dependent on my cousin Rigel being Master Snape’s apprentice and he’s gone? And he wasn’t actually my cousin? So that was sort of all lies? And I don’t know how Master Snape feels about that. And I don’t think my Dad ever gave Master Snape permission to let me be his apprentice. So I might not actually have been an apprentice. And if I was, I might no longer be an apprentice because Master Snape is probably not happy with me.”

Sometimes, Caelum reflects, it’s as though nothing but nonsense comes out of her mouth.

“Do you think my Dad would give permission for me to be an apprentice? Should I write to him about it?”

“No and more no. A thousand times no. Never ask him.” Caelum still hasn’t told her that it’s not actually possible for Lord Potter to write to her. Or rather, the letter would never actually reach the penthouse.

She eyes the letter from Master Snape thoughtfully. “Then what should I do?”

Caelum picks up the letter.

_Miss Potter,_

_It has not escaped my attention that I have been remiss this last year in receiving updates from you about your studies in our field. I will be at the Potions Guild this Friday for Apprentice Casillas’s presentation, please be there at eight o’clock in the morning to discuss your work in progress._

_Potions Master Professor Snape_

“See, he doesn’t actually call me an Apprentice. So I don’t think I am one. But I’m not certain. I haven’t actually seen him in a year. Should I ask?”

Caelum sighs. He doesn’t know that Master Snape can put up with this even if Harry is a genius. He also thinks Master Snape should be banned from having apprentices ever again if he left Harry completely unsupervised for an entire year _and_ somehow managed to be deceived by and then lose the Pretender. It's a terrible track record. 

“I think you show up to the meeting and see what happens.”

He eyes her critically. “Try and answer his questions succinctly. Not everyone is as patient and magnanimous as me. You also need new brewing robes, you look homeless and I don’t think looking pathetic will help with Master Snape.”

Caelum books an appointment at Twilfit and Tattings after hours so that he can apparate over with Harry in peace and avoid the wedding and Hogwarts crowds. Pucey insists on joining them – he needs an outfit apparently for the Malfoy Summer Garden Party.

Caelum and Pucey convince the sales girl to give them two bottles of champagne. The bottles are charmed to float around the store, providing one drink every fifteen minutes (which is simply not enough champagne). Pucey insists on the sales girl giving Harry a glass too and he drinks her champagne as she rolls her eyes.

By the time Pucey is fitted into a hideous royal blue outfit following the specifications his mother had sent to the tailors, Caelum is in considerably better spirits. Life could be worse, he could be a pathetic coward, buckling under pressure like Pucey to go to his Aunt Narcissa’s insipid party.

Caelum doesn’t actually need anything at the moment but he does need to buy something for the sake of appearances. He mostly wears his brewing robes and he’s been steadfastly refusing to attend all social events since the debacle at the Triwizard Tournament. He can’t imagine the events (which were always stuffy and boring) have gotten any more interesting now that the SOW party is on the outs. Everyone is probably just angrier and drunker.

For some reason he feels the need to order a cashmere sweater. It’s emerald green and it would look good on him because everything does but it would also look good on Harry if she happened to borrow it. 

The proprietress herself comes out to haul Harry into a room for her fitting. Harry looks truly miserable.

Harry orders the plainest and least intricate looking brewing robes that she can get away with. Caelum in a moment of inspiration also throws a pair of sunglasses for Harry on to the bundle of robes. Her eyes are the only thing about her that looks remotely like the Harry Potter he knew from the previous summer. Sunglasses might come in handy.

Twilfit attempts to charge Harry’s school account and Pucey and Caelum are both surprised that the transaction is approved.

“You’d think they’d cut you off,” says Pucey rather bemused. “I mean, you’re not even in school. And you ran away after a shopping spree.”

Harry shrugs, “Well they paid for Archie’s AIM uniforms for four years and didn’t notice that he was buying the boy’s clothing. And they didn’t notice that I never ordered potions ingredients during the school year. And they weren’t surprised by whatever Archie has been buying these last four years. My parents aren’t that observant sometimes.”

The comment is so innocent that both Caelum and Pucey start laughing.

“Oh Harry, I think everyone in the Wizarding World knows that Lord Potter is the least observant man in Wizarding London.”

Pucey nods. “It explains a lot about the state of things in general honestly. I mean the legal system is obviously in shambles. I’ve never been arrested for anything and I don’t even try to conceal anything that I do.”

Harry glares at them both and storms off to look at boots. 

They don’t stock anything in her size, (there are virtually no women brewers), but they take Harry’s measurements and her specifications (fire-resistant, acid-resistant soles, black stretchy leather) and have the three of them wait while they alter an existing pair.

There's a wedding cake left over from someone’s tasting that morning and Harry eats a slice of cake while Caelum and Pucey try to get the two now empty flying champagne bottles to fight each other.

When the boots arrive Harry beams like she’s being presented with her Mastery designation.

She pulls them on immediately, discarding the buckle shoes and spins around in front of the mirror.

Caelum rolls her eyes. “You can’t just walk around with those Harry; it looks completely deranged.”

She ignores him and keeps twirling happily.

"It's July and the floor is not made of lava."

Harry pauses briefly in her twirling to stick out her tongue at him and resumes twirling.

Pucey winces as his bottle is pulverized.

“Women. Shoes. You're fighting a losing battle, my friend.”

Caelum rolls his eyes again. Some friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My access to a computer is limited on the weekend. So here is Saturday's chapter early and Sunday might be late. :o


	12. Chapter 12

The Guild has a back door usually used for moving large amounts of ingredients, brewing equipment, delivering catering and transporting commercial amounts of potions. It’s also a great spot to apparate without anyone noticing your arrival. 

Caelum and Harry arrive at the back door and sneak in just before Harry’s appointment with Professor Snape. Caelum wants to minimize the risk of anyone seeing him with an unfamiliar girl and asking questions that Harry will no doubt answer in the most suspicious way possible. Harry is mostly worried that Aldermaster Hurst might try and talk to her or that Master Grindel might recognize her based on her similarity in appearance to father.

Harry’s wearing her sunglasses, (they’ve had to transfigured the lenses to match her prescription), those dratted boots and her new brewing robes. Before leaving the penthouse Caelum checked that she had put her wand in it’s holster. It doesn’t matter if she needs the wand or not, she’s a witch and should carry it.

Caelum reflects that in one week of living with him Harry has acquired clothing that actually fits, a wand and a general air of respectability. She’s also showing her face at the Guild, something she hasn’t apparently done in a year despite being an Apprentice. Caelum wonders what her parents had been doing for the last month and he assumes it’s basically exactly what they did the previous three and a half years - neglect her entirely. 

Caelum keeps catching Harry smiling at her boots and though it’s crazy it’s at least a harmless sort of crazy. Not an “I have changed the rules of potions” and “I’m curing the Fade” kind of crazy. He resists mocking her. There’s something magical about her childish joy over something so mundane.

The house-elves have braided her red hair info a crown on top of her head and it looks unusually neat.

Harry could easily pass for seventeen, (the age Caelum has told her to offer should anyone ask). 

The only way that anyone other than Hurst and maybe Grindel would identify Harry would be by process of elimination, there just aren’t that many young lady brewers.   
Harry simply looks too different from the scruffy, dark-haired child intern they would remember. 

Harry’s brought a large box with her and refuses to let Caelum know what’s inside it (apparently she’s promised Master Snape to keep the details of their collaboration a secret). Caelum is slowly going mad with curiosity. He wonders if the box is empty and this is all an elaborate ruse.

And yet Master Snape identifies Harry instantly. 

With a rather sarcastic, “Miss Potter” and a snort of derision Caelum thinks is specifically directed at Harry’s red hair, Master Snape greets her. Harry follows Master Snape off to the laboratory that he’s booked. 

Caelum isn’t sure how long Master Snape and Harry will be and he knows better than to try and spy, Master Snape is rumoured to read minds. 

Caelum heads off to the Guild’s event room and grabs two seats at the very back with Pucey so that they can drink from the flask of fairy wine that Pucey bought with him and make rude comments without any of the Masters catching on. They put up a muffling charm as the room starts to fill so they can make increasingly louder and ruder comments as other people take their seats and the alcohol starts to take effect.

Bennett arrives and looks as though he’s about to sit next to Caelum. Caelum puts his feet on the chair beside him and Bennett rolls his eyes and sits beside Pucey instead.

Bennett has brought copies of the edition of Potions Quarterly with Casillas’s smug face on it. Caelum burns out Casillas’s eyes and pretends to read whatever drivel it is that Casillas has written. The requirement for becoming a Master is an exam. A closed exam. Choosing to do a public presentation right before the exam is just vanity. Caelum’s not sure if he will bother with a presentation before his exam but if he does, it would be much better than whatever garbage they’re in for. He wonders what Harry is up to.

A few minutes before the presentation is scheduled to start, Harry walks in to the event room holding something in a bag closely to her chest. She still in the company of Master Snape, who is watching her so closely it’s clear that he’s worried she might vanish or get lost if he takes his eyes off of her for a second. It’s a bit strange, thinks Caelum that Master Snape has finally started caring about Harry. He supposes that losing one rubbish apprentice might make a man value his remaining good one. 

Upon seeing Caelum, Harry mumbles something to Master Snape and runs off to grab the empty seat that Caelum just happens to have removed his feet from. 

Master Snape can see Pucey shamelessly drinking the fairy wine and gives the four of them an incredibly long look of disapproval before going to sit with the other important people at the front of the room.

Caelum pokes Harry. “What’s in the bag?”

She pulls out a rather new looking protective apron. “I left this behind the last time Master Snape and I were brewing together so he returned it.” 

Caelum rolls his eyes. How much stuff can one person possibly lose?

“He held on to it?” It seems weirdly sentimental for Master Snape to have held on to an apron since last summer instead of just sending it to Harry by Owl Post with a rude letter telling her to take better care of her things.

Harry bursts in to tears. 

Pucey and Bennett are both stunned. There’s no crying in potions. It’s one of the best things about potions. Thankfully the room is almost full and no one is looking at them.

Caelum is not used to crying girls. He pats Harry on the back awkwardly. “Stop crying, I’m sure Master Snape is used to your very particular way of doing things and it’s not a big deal that you forgot the apron.” 

That’s the nicest way he can say that Harry is a hopeless scatterbrain who has shown no ability to keep track of any of her possessions and that Master Snape had better get used to it if he wants to keep working with her.

Harry curls up on the chair beside him and snuggles into his side. She’s not crying anymore but she’s sniffling a bit. Pucey hands her the fairy wine. “Potter, you clearly need this more than I do.”

Bennett is startled. “Potter, as in Harry Potter?” 

He eyes Harry with an unwritten question. “We had a Harry Potter back at AIM, he fixed a scratch on my arm once.”

Caelum sighs. “That was my idiot cousin Arcturus Black pretending to be Harry Potter so that he could study healing in American, do try and keep up with the story Bennett.”

Pucey starts laughing. At this point they’ve made enough noise that some of the Masters are turning to look at them though Caelum is certain that the muffling charm they placed will prevent anyone from hearing exactly what they’re saying.

Harry adjusts herself into Caelum’s side, snuggling in deeper and takes a swig of the flask. Bennett, clearly sensing disaster, grabs it and hands it back to Pucey who finishes it off.

Caelum sighs. What a bunch of idiots he’s chosen to become friends with. 

He settles back in his chair and wraps his arm around Harry. She smells like stewed lacewing flies and burnt Archie hair but he doesn’t mind it.

“There, there,” Caelum says in what he hopes is a comforting tone. “I’m sure Master Snape’s opinion of you couldn’t have gotten any worse. Now let’s watch Casillas make an ass of himself.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Homeless girl!”

Harry poked her head out from the laboratory. Caelum noticed that she was wearing her new looking safety apron and her ridiculously clunky boots.

“Yes?”

Caelum thrust a large cardboard box at her. He had gone into Diagon Alley that morning to pick up a newspaper and a large, persistent barn owl had accosted him, pecking and squawking until he opened its letter. The letter had turned out to be yet another furious communication from the Post Office demanding that he immediately present himself. He’d rolled his eyes and headed over.

The Post Office clerks had yelled at him that sending dangerous magical creatures by post should be criminal, almost thrown the box at him and kicked him out of the Post Office with renewed threats to contact his mother. Caelum was in a sour mood.

The box was sealed with spellotape but had a number of small holes in it. Elegant writing warned any curious person that no one other than Harriett Potter should open the box.

There were small hissing noises coming from the box and the sounds of something rustling. Caelum had briefly considered just throwing the box in the alley and running for it.

Harry immediately looked excited and grabbed the box, ripping it open. 

“Treeslider!”

Caelum looked in horror as a four foot long boomslang emerged from the box hissing loudly. Yes. He definitely should have thrown the box away. 

Harry began hissing back at the snake.

So she could talk to snakes. It was hard sometimes to know what was just her crazy ramblings and what was real.

Caelum coughed pointedly at her. Harry looked over at him excitedly. 

“This is Rigel’s snake, Treeslider. Master Snape went and found him yesterday. Treeslider has been ever so bored living in the Hogwarts’ kitchens this last month. He’s going to live with us now.”

Caelum glared at the snake and back at Harry. “And is there some reason the Pretender can’t look after his own overgrown snake?”

Harry shook her head sadly. “Well Rigel is gone. And poor Treeslider has been waiting so long already to have a proper home with a Speaker. It doesn’t seem like Rigel is coming back to get him. It’s boring for Treeslider at Hogwarts with most of the house-elves and students gone. Master Snape thought that Treeslider belonged with me.”

“He did, did he?”

He hadn’t forgotten the nasty looks Master Snape had given him the previous day. Caelum sensed he was being punished. Master Snape was probably hoping the snake would kill him.

Harry was staring lovingly into the boomslang’s black eyes. “Isn’t he pretty?”

Caelum thew up his hands in defeat and went out to the patio. There was probably something to drink out there. Hopefully the highly poisonous, giant snake wouldn’t kill Harry in the meantime. He didn’t want to have to explain that to Lord Potter.

Half an hour and several glasses of fairy wine later he was joined on the patio by the boomslang. Harry was still working on her orders for Mr. Krait or one of her many projects and that left the snake alone with nothing to do. Lazy thing.

It was a sunny day and the boomslang was resting on the opposite end of the patio seemingly enjoying the warm roof tiles. After he had talked to the house-elves about the horror that was “chicken and waffle sandwiches” they had stepped up their game. The Lestrange house-elves had provided a beautiful charcuterie platter on slate. Spanish ham  
and blue cheese hardly seemed appropriate for a snake though.

Treeslider was eyeing the fat pigeons which until this point had only had Caelum as an enemy.

Caelum considered the snake. It obviously wouldn’t hurt to endear himself to the creature. There was free venom and skin to consider.

“Stupefy”. 

He stunned a particularly fat pigeon that looked like it was laughing at him. 

The snake looked at him with increased interest before slithering over to the unconscious bird and swallowing it whole. The snake hissed something at him, (a thanks perhaps?) and Caelum relaxed on the blanket. This was good. He could work  
with this snake.

Treeslider slithered toward him and Caelum pet its head awkwardly. Were you supposed to pet a snake? He didn’t really know but the snake didn’t seem to mind.

Well, this wasn’t as bad as he expected it would be. There was something so satisfying about watching the snake open it’s mouth and chow down on those disgusting winged rodents.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” he told the snake, hoping it would understand his tone if not his words.

Caelum stunned another fat pigeon that he thought was looking at him funny. The snake hissed something at him and headed over to his second lunch.

Harry came out to the patio for lunch. The house-elves had cleared out the charcuterie and brought out a chilled soup as a starting course. Harry looked at the cold soup with considerable confusion. 

Caelum rolled his eyes at her. “It’s gazpacho Harry. Honestly it’s not surprising sometimes that you lived in a shack all alone for four years.”

The patio was oddly quiet. Harry looked around.

“Where did the pigeons go?”

“They’re migrating.”

“Birds don’t migrate in summer!”

Caelum shrugged at her. “You’re the pigeon, you would know what’s going on with the pigeons not me.”

Harry looked over at Treeslider. He was barely moving.

Treeslider had eaten well. After the second pigeon he had dragged himself slowly back to Caelum and curled up on Caelum’s feet. Caelum guessed that the snake would need a few days to digest the birds.

Harry took a small mouse and offered it to the snake. Treeslider didn’t even acknowledge the pitiful offering.

Harry hissed at the snake. Caelum guessed it was some sort of question.

The snake didn’t respond, Caelum couldn’t blame it. Why would this lovely creature put up with a tiny mouse after he had already given it such better offerings?

Harry looked annoyed and confused.

Caelum smiled at her, showing his perfect teeth.

“Treeslider and I have come to an understanding.”

Those pigeons were all going to die.


	14. Chapter 14

Caelum, Pucey and Treeslider are on the patio. Inspired by a home decorating book from Pucey’s mother they have transfigured the white and gold cushions into modern patio furniture. They are relaxing on outdoor loungers under tacky colourful umbrellas.

Treeslider has his own ottoman and miniature umbrella. A wireless set is playing pop music loudly. There is a not insignificant amount of sangria. The house-elves have left a tray of delicate looking cucumber sandwiches. No one is moving.

After some trial and error Caelum and Pucey have discovered that Treeslider likes his pigeons flash frozen not stunned. Maybe he likes the feeling of ice? Maybe it’s a bit like a bird popsicle? It is a rather hot day. Everyone likes a popsicle on a hot day. 

“Glacius.” 

Caelum lazily freezes a particularly stupid pigeon and uses a summoning charm to bring it over to Treeslider. The boomslang has become too accustomed to luxury to slither after even frozen or stunned food anymore. 

Treeslider eyes it greedily before swallowing it whole. 

“That’s a good snake,” Caelum says affectionately, petting it on the head.

Caelum’s decided that Treeslider is now his boomslang. He doesn’t really want to admit it but the Pretender had good taste in friends. He’s tempted to take the snake with him and actually show up at the horrible SOW Summer Party. A four foot snake would certainly make an impression. 

Harry and that horrible Granger girl come outside to grab sandwiches. They have been working on their “Cure the Fade Project” all morning and have been refusing to tell Caelum anything about it or include him in it. Caelum has been trying to show them how little it bothers him and how completely uninterested he is. That’s primarily why he invited Pucey over. 

Granger stares at Caelum and Pucey with disgust. “Is this really what you two do all day?” 

Caelum looks at her with mutual disdain and pointedly ignores her.

Pucey gives her a genuine smile. “Well, we can’t all be saving the world or it won’t be as special when you two do it.” 

Pucey is the absolute _worst_. 

Granger is giving their chairs and umbrellas a disapproving look. Caelum has no idea why she comes to his apartment. He would like to ban her but Harry seems oddly attached to the mudblood and it’s not safe for Harry to be wondering around Diagon Alley. Harry is probably the only person ridiculous enough to wear industrial potions boots wondering around Diagon Alley in July and even her incompetent Head Auror father could probably find her that way. 

“It’s an overcast day.”

Caelum rolls his eyes at Granger. “Is there a question?”

“So you’ve charmed the patio to have Sun. And then you’ve put up these umbrellas to block the Sun.”

Caelum doesn’t see her point. “And?”

“Well it’s ridiculous isn’t it? Why not just take down the charm for the Sun if you’re blocking the charmed Sun anyway?”

Caelum rolls his eyes at her and goes back to petting his snake. Some people just didn’t appreciate a nice bit of hired magic. Practically a muggle this one. 

Harry has come over to Caelum’s chair to poke at Treeslider. Caelum has been noticing her trying to get Treeslider’s attention every few hours. It has not been working. Treeslider is his friend now.

“He’s been a bit odd these last two days?” Harry says after failing to get a response out of Treeslider.

Caelum shrugs. How would someone know if a snake was being odd? Treeslider seems perfectly fine to him.

“And he won’t eat any mice. He used to love mice.”

Pucey looks at Harry with some surprise. 

“How would you know that? He showed up yesterday.”

Harry ignores the question and hisses at the snake. The snake does not respond. Caelum senses the snake is pretending to be asleep. The smart boomslang clearly knows where the frozen pigeons are coming from. 

“Are you sure you can actually talk to snakes?” Pucey asks in a bored tone. 

Harry looks deeply offended. 

“Because you’re really not doing any good with that snake are you? I mean it seems to like Caelum a whole lot and he doesn’t know parseltongue but it’s barely given you the time of day.”

Harry frowns. 

Caelum smiles contentedly. He and Treeslider are getting along just fine. He scratches what he assumes is basically Treeslider’s chin and the snake hisses softly. 

“I think Treeslider is just pouting,” Harry says thoughtfully. “Like when you leave a cat for a month and they ignore you. He’ll come around eventually.”

“But you don’t actually know that snake, do you?” asks Pucey. “That was the Pretender’s snake. Maybe it just doesn’t like you.”

Harry glares at him. She and Granger walk off with their sandwiches. 

“Those two are really something,” Pucey says sipping on his drink. “Your cousin must be a strange man.”

Caelum shrugs. Arcturus Rigel Black is a complete mystery to most of the wizarding community.

“Never met him. Probably never met him anyway. At least he keeps sending us hair so he’s not completely worthless.” 

A new jar of hair labelled “Archie” had been picked up from the post office and hidden before the visit with Granger. Harry was smart enough to know that Granger would have confiscated or destroyed it. 

Caelum scratches the part of Treeslider that he’s decided is basically the chin. Treeslider doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Are you going to tell her about the pigeons?” Pucey asks curiously.

Caelum shrugs. “Maybe when she tells us about the cure for the Fade.”

He freezes another pigeon.


	15. Chapter 15

On Monday Harry was gone when Caelum woke up. His new green sweater was also gone.

She had left him a note.

_I know you are over-feeding Treeslider!!! Stop feeding him! He will get sick! I’ll be back around lunch time- I’ll stop by to see you at the Guild_

He rolled his eyes and headed to the Guild. _Of course she didn’t know how to write a proper letter, did he have to teach her everything?_ He is slightly concerned that she hasn’t told him where she is going but he suspects she probably doesn’t know either. Harry is probably wondering or flying around somewhere completely lost trying to do a new impossible thing. _Absolutely hopeless, that one_.

The Guild was significantly more subdued than it had been on Friday. A house-elf cleaning crew had gone through the building removing all the traces of the hundred or so people who had attended Casillas’s presentation. The building is oddly sterile and quiet.

Somewhere in the building Casillas would be off completing his mastery exam. It was enough to make even Caelum feel slightly nervous.

He found himself heading to Bannett’s office where Pucey was already sitting on a desk. Bannett had procured another bottle of White Rat Whisky for Casillas. Pucey had of course opened the bottle and started drinking it. Pucey pours a generous glass for Caelum without speaking. 

Caelum considers the last hangover he had from drinking White Rat Whisky and accepts the glass but charms the alcohol away as he tastes it. It is a shame he has to pretend to drink it, the whisky tastes horrible. 

“How long do you think it will be?” Pucey asks.

Caelum shrugs. “Depends on what they ask him to brew.”

“What are you guessing it will be?”

Bannett considers potions that can be brewed in less than a day with the complexity to be in a Mastery exam. “The more potent Exstimulo Potion takes eight hours to brew, I’d guess that one and probably two other potions that would be hard to brew concurrently with it.”  
Pucey tosses back another shot of whisky. Caelum knows he is not vanishing any of it and isn’t surprised to see that Bannett has quietly started brewing a cauldron of hangover potion. Not that anyone should take Bennett’s potions, but it is still a decent gesture.

“You don’t think he’ll be asked to create something?” Caelum asks hesitantly. He’s avoiding asking too many questions about the exam. Bennett sounds surprised. 

“Free-brew? No, the mastery exam is always an assortment of higher complexity potions. They used to pick practically anything so the exams could take a week to complete but no one has time for that now. At most they might limit his ingredients and require him to improvise alternative ingredients.”

They sit in relative silence waiting to hear an explosion. Bannett is working on his mastery project. Pucey and Caelum pull out a battered wizarding chess set left behind by a previous apprentice. They play a few games, Pucey’s pieces keep yelling at him that he is not moving them correctly. 

Caelum looks at the clock every few minutes. He wonders what Harry is doing. 

Bannett smiles indulgently. “Waiting for Harriett?”

Caelum rolls his eyes. “She’s probably lost herself somewhere for another four years. Or worse, lost her wand again.”

“I’m just fine.”

Harry wonders in carrying a roll of parchment. She’s wearing his green sweater over black trousers and her stupid clunky boots. Her hair is tied back with a ribbon and it’s a mess of thick black curls.

Pucey grins stupidly at her and throws out his arms for a hug. “Princess Harriett! Where have you been? I’ve missed you!” 

Caelum rolls his eyes. “Don’t mind Pucey, he’s drunk.”

Bannett smiles indulgently and brings over a flask of freshly brewed sobriety potion for Pucey. 

Harry stares at them somewhat mortified. There is an half empty bottle of whisky on the table and two glasses. According to the clock it’s 11 AM. “Is this what you do all day at the Guild?”

Caelum sits up straighter and glares at her. “The three of us are all actual apprentices. Doing actual apprentice work. Not whatever it is that homeless children do during the summer.”

Behind him Pucey chokes down the hangover potion and burps loudly.

“That’s what I was taking care of.” Harry hands him her parchment.

Caelum rolls his eyes and unrolls the parchment. It’s an apprenticeship contract between Harriett Euphemia Potter and Master Severus Snape backdated to January 1994. Making her the youngest person to start a potions apprenticeship in modern history. Even without the backdate she would still be the youngest. He doesn’t count the Pretender, who even knows how old his fake cousin actually was.

Pucey grabs the parchment from Caelum and points at a signature on the bottom of the sheet. “Hey! Lord Potter signed this.”

Caelum grabs it back. _What has that insane pigeon done now?_

Harry nods. “Master Snape told me we had to get the paperwork sorted out when we met on Friday. And that he would have absolutely nothing to do with my apprenticeship until I got it signed. So I had to go to the Department of Law Enforcement and have James sign the contract this morning.” 

She glances over at Caelum. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mention you. James just knows I’m staying with friends and he says he is going to find me a place of my own for August.” 

Caelum is fuming silently. James Potter could have hunted him down and killed him an hour ago and Harriett hadn’t given him so much as a heads up. 

Harriett glares at him. “And James said that you blocked his owls. You need to unblock them at once.”

“They were all Howlers! All of them! Multiple Howlers every day!” 

“I think you hurt his feelings.”

"I hurt _his_ feelings?”

“He yelled a lot. It was half an hour before he stopped yelling. And that was just so he could have a drink and start yelling again." 

“And somehow that’s _my_ fault?”

Caelum pours himself a whisky and actually swallows it. 

"So that’s it then? They’re just letting you leave?” Pucey asks thoughtfully.

Harry shrugs. “Well they can’t really keep me trapped at home. Because I can just leave. I’m writing my OWLs and NEWTs in August so they know I’m not going to a school in September. And if I come here every day they figure that Aldermaster Hurst can let them know how I’m doing. And I have to have dinner with them on Sundays. And babysit Addy when they ask me to.”

Bennett nods thoughtfully. “That’s quite insightful of them.” 

“Well, I think Lily talked James around. He is not terribly happy with me. But I think Lily realized that it would be easy enough for me to emancipate myself anyway after I pass my NEWTs this summer. And they want to avoid that.”

Caelum snorts and drinks another whisky. Giving Harriett the legal status of adult would probably be a terrible idea. He isn’t even sure what she would do with it but it would probably be completely stupid.

Pucey helps himself to another drink too. Bannett raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t say anything.

Caelum isn’t sure how the substandard sobriety potion Bannett has brewed will react to more alcohol but he supposes it’s not his problem. 

“You alright Harriett? It sounds like you’ve had quite a morning.” 

_Bannett is insufferable_ Caelum thinks. _Absolutely the worst._

__Harriett nods. “I wasn’t planning on seeing James for a while but Master Snape sped things up a bit with his ultimatum. And I think it’s worked out actually pretty well.” She pauses thoughtfully. “I wonder if that was his intention.”_ _

__Caelum snorts. “Why would Master Snape care?” Honestly, she barely even knows Master Snape, she probably hasn’t even met the man five times._ _

__Harry shrugs. “It just seems like something he would do.”_ _

__Caelum looks at Bannett and Pucey. They’re all silently skeptical. Nothing about Master Snape suggests that he would care about a homeless teenage runaway reuniting with her father. None of them feel like telling Harry that though. It seems kinder to let her think Master Snape cares about her._ _

__Aldermaster Hurst though, he has a soft spot for Harriett. Caelum figures that he must have had a hand in all of this. He seems like the kind of person who would reunite a hopeless runaway with her parents._ _

__Before he can ask another question Pucey opens his stupid mouth._ _

__“Well if you’re out of hiding Harriett, why don’t you and Treeslider come with me to the Malfoy Summer Party?” Pucey asks cheerfully._ _

__Caelum throws the bottle of whisky at him. Harriett flashes up a bright red shield and it swallows the bottle whole. It’s almost frightening that she can cast a Depasco shield silently and without a wand. It would be frightening if he wasn’t used to her seemingly limitless magic._ _

__There’s silence._ _

__“So, the party then, I bet you don’t have anything else to do.” Pucey says calmly, as though Caelum hadn’t just tried to crack his head open and Harry hadn’t performed a truly shocking bit of wandless magic. “You can think of it as payment for the bottle your shield ate.”_ _

__Harry pauses and shrugs. “Why not. It could be fun.”_ _

__Caelum knocks the whisky glasses off the table and storms off. It’s time to find Whitaker and find out when he can become a Master._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this story to deal with anxiety stemming from an upcoming hearing (five years in the making). I did not expect so many of you to find it funny and hopefully it helped you even a little bit as much as it helped me. In many ways the wait for an investigation, an admission and then the wait for sentencing has defined a quarter of my adult life and I found it helpful to think about something else as things reached a close.
> 
> I’m doing a lot better now but we are still in the appeal period and I’m basically waiting to see if this keeps going. I hope it is over as I don’t have any fingernails left (haha).
> 
> Solidarity to anyone in this position, I wish you strength and courage. If you are in discord and want to talk to me about your own situation you are always welcome to reach out and we can talk about it or talk about something else or try and find you an appropriate professional resource.
> 
> We are all more than the worst thing that ever happened to us and we are not defined by the choices other people have made.
> 
> Love to Caelum, Harry and all of you. <3.


	16. Chapter 16

“Harry, what are you doing?”

Harry is sitting on one of the lounge chairs feeding a pigeon sunflower seeds.

“You do realize the point of the birdfeeder is to keep those smelly disease carriers away from us?”

Harry reaches out her hand with some seed. The bird refuses to sit on her hand and continues to peck at the seeds on the chair. Harriett is not deterred by the rejection from nature’s foulest creature and continues to smile stupidly at the pigeon. 

“This one is Carrott. With two ts.” 

Pucey considers it. “Is that how they spell carrot in America?”

Caelum is still incensed at Pucey. How dare he invite Harriett to Narcissa Malfoy’s horrible party? Why is he even at their house? He isn’t their friend. 

“For the last time she’s never been to America, that was my idiot cousin Arcturus who went to America. She’s never been anywhere outside of London.” 

“Why Carrott?”

Harry beams at Pucey. Caelum feels slightly noxious, probably from the pigeon smell. 

“Well, he just looks like a Carrott, doesn’t he?” 

Caelum and Pucey look at the grey pigeon. Nothing has ever looked less like a root vegetable. 

“He looks like snake food,” says Caelum finally. 

Harry glares at him. “I’ve talked to Treeslider and he’s not going to eat any more pigeons. We’ve decided that hurting the pigeons is wrong.”

Caelum very much doubts that any of this is true. 

“Still think you can talk to snakes then?” Pucey isn’t convinced that Harriett can speak to the boomslang. 

Treeslider has continued to ignore her. He is currently sleeping under Caelum’s bed and refusing to come out. Probably because Harriett is denying him tasty bird popsicles.

Caelum doesn’t know why Harriett puts up with so much rudeness from Pucey. He is the absolute worst person that Caelum has ever met and a traitor. 

“Of course she can talk to snakes, you fat-headed idiot.” 

A second pigeon approaches Carrott and the two start squawking at each other. 

“Who’s that one then?"  


“That one is Larry. They don’t like each other. I think Carrott is jealous.”

A third bird attempts to land behind the other two and misses his landing hitting the floor. He squawks with somehow even less dignity than the other pigeons and starts fluffing out his feathers. The other two birds look almost ashamed of Hoots. Can pigeons feel shame?

“That one’s Hoots. I don’t think Hoots is quite alright in the head.” 

Caelum cannot listen to this anymore. He throws a sausage roll at Larry the pigeon, that one really bothers him for some reason and the birds fly off noisily. 

“Why are you even here Pucey?” 

Pucey smiles and dramatically opens up a Daily Prophet. In the inside cover there’s a picture of Hurst standing between Harriett Potter and Castillas. There’s a rubbish puff piece article about Casillas being inducted as a Potions Master and accepting a job at St. Mungo’s, no doubt brewing the least interesting and longest lasting potions known to wizard kind. 

A few lines at the end mention Harriett Potter, youngest Potions Apprentice in Modern History and her successful completion of an internship at the Potions Guild, her invention of the Modified Weightless Potion and the bestselling Potter’s Portable Protection Potion and now she’s patented something called the Homesick Potion, which will be entering the market just in time for parents to purchase for their school aged children. 

There is something funny about homeless Harriett of all people developing a homesick potion. Is it irony? Caelum doesn’t know and Harriett certainly won’t. She’s never been to school and apparently she spells like an American. 

“You invented a new potion,” Caelum’s unsaid words are _and you didn’t tell me_.

Harry shrugs. “I had forgotten about that actually. I developed it in June with free-brewing and showed it to Master Snape. I didn’t realize he was going to patent it for me.”

Pucey picks up the sausage roll and eats it. “So you’ve taught yourself to free-brew then.”

Harry nods. “It didn’t seem worth mentioning.”

Pucey nods, clearly prepared to pretend that there’s nothing interesting about yet another crazy discovery about Harriett Potter.

Caelum rolls his eyes at Harriett. He supposes with her reflexes and magical output free-brewing isn’t the challenge that it is for sane people.  
“What were you doing with Hurst and Casillas anyway?”

Harry beams. “Now that he’s leaving I get his old laboratory.”

The Guild has given Casillas a Mastery and given his workspace to a self-taught free-brewing girl child. Hurst must be so pleased with himself. 

Pucey clears his throat. “So about the Summer Party. It’s on Friday. You should probably wear something to compliment me but not match-”  
Caelum’s wand is handy and he fires a curse at Pucey that Harriett blocks. Pucey looks indifferent about how close he had come to having his intestines expelled from his anus. Seven years of Durmstrang will either kill you or make you fairly unshakable. 

“Stop doing that,” Harry says angrily. “I know you know I’m going to block it but it’s still horribly rude. What was that anyway?”

“Entrail-expelling curse.”

Harry looks interested. “I don’t know that one, where did you learn it?”

Caelum looks at her and shapes his head. He keeps forgetting how self-taught she is. There are giant holes in her knowledge. Absolutely hopeless this one. “There’s all sorts of things at the Lestrange Library. Though you’d think there would have been some interesting books at the Black Library if not in James Potter’s library.”

Pucey throws a sausage roll at Caelum. Caelum blasts it into tiny pieces.

“Don’t teach her that curse Caelum. She’s powerful enough.”

That’s probably the only intelligent thing that Pucey has ever said.

Caelum wonders off into his bedroom. He looks under the bed for Treeslider. The snake has its own basket no doubt provided by the house-elves. 

“How are you doing little buddy?” The snake comes out cheerfully hissing. Caelum gives the snake a friendly pat. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you a fresh pigeon soon.” 

He grabs a piece of parchment.

_Father,  
I’ve decided to extend you a personal favour by agreeing to attend the Malfoy’s Summer Party. Please convey to Lord and Lady Malfoy my acceptance of their invitation and send any further instructions to me by owl. Please also make sure to make another deposit in my account, I will be making a fairly last minute trip to the tailors so that I have something suitable to wear.  
CL  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out: [**clothes & crushes**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727648) (5875 words) by [**dalekchung**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalekchung)  
>  Chapters: 6/?  
> Fandom: [Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Harry%20Potter%20-%20J*d*%20K*d*%20Rowling), [The Rigel Black Chronicles - murkybluematter](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/The%20Rigel%20Black%20Chronicles%20-%20murkybluematter)  
> Rating: General Audiences  
> Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  
> Relationships: Caelum Lestrange/Harriet Potter | Rigel Black  
> Characters: Caelum Lestrange (Rigel Black Chronicles), Harriet Potter | Rigel Black, Lionel "Leo" Hurst (Rigel Black Chronicles), Boots  
> Additional Tags: Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, no beta we die like Caerry, heavily inspired by Harrysboots4ever, Clothes, crack I think  
> Summary:
> 
> random scenes where Harry steals Caelum's clothes? with no context? yes please.
> 
> and 
> 
> [**The Tale of Carrot the Pigeon**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29840205) (2890 words) by [**BlueFin314**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFin314)  
>  Chapters: 1/1  
> Fandom: [Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Harry%20Potter%20-%20J*d*%20K*d*%20Rowling), [Rigel Black Chronicles](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Rigel%20Black%20Chronicles)  
> Rating: General Audiences  
> Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings  
> Characters: Carrot the pigeon, Hoots the pigeon, Larry the pigeon, Miscellaneous pigeons, Harriet Potter | Rigel Black, Caelum Lestrange (Rigel Black Chronicles)  
> Additional Tags: Pigeons, More pigeons, Waffle sandwiches, You know what happens if you've read CLatHG, fic of fic of fic, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, No birds were hurt in the writing of this fic, Whether they are hurt in the fic is a spoiler, No beta we die like pigeons  
> Summary:
> 
> Carrot is the most handsome, amazing, wonderful pigeon alive. This is his story. 
> 
> Or: the pigeon version of Caelum Lestrange and the Homeless Girl


	17. Chapter 17

Caelum wakes up to loud noises on his patio. It sounds like a dog running around in circles and smacking into the furniture. He does not own a dog, what has Harriett done now.

He rolls his eyes and walks outside and wishes he had not. What has his life become? 

Somehow the patio ceiling has been turned off and the early morning sky is natural. That is highly upsetting but everything else is even more upsetting.

There is a black bird chasing furiously after a fox as the fox tries to chase after the pigeons. Pigeons are squawking and flapping about but too stupid to just fly off the roof. Treeslider is also outside, sitting on his ottoman, ignoring the idiot fox. And that horrible mud-blood Granger is sitting on one of his chairs drinking a cup of tea- had she broken into his flat somehow?

Caelum is about to start yelling that his patio is not a place for stray mud-bloods and wild animals when Harry appears, her face flushed and someone he assumes is his cousin Arcturus appears beside her. They are both laughing and elbowing each other. Idiots.

Granger rolls her eyes at Arcturus and Harriett which stops Caelum from making the same gesture. 

Arcturus smiles and walks over to Caelum his hand out-stretched. “Well met, cousin.”

Caelum eyes him with great distrust- who knows who this idiot actually is and finally shakes his hand. It is simply too embarrassing to ask if they have ever met before. 

Caleum has no idea and no way of knowing the truth even if he asks. 

Harriett beams at them both.

“I knew the two of you would like each other if you gave it a chance.”

Caelum feels that “like” is a little bit strong. He had actually been considering stunning Archie and shaving his head; they’d been running out of hair and the Polyjuice was getting closer and closer to being done. They certainly could not ask for any more hair with Granger here. 

From the look on her face Granger also looks skeptical of this supposed “like” between the Lestrange and Black heirs. Caelum sighs. Agreeing with mud-bloods, today was off to a bad start. 

Caelum is relieved that Arcturus and Harriett no longer look anything alike. For whatever reason when they had decided to make themselves look identical Arcturus and Harriet apparently also decided to make themselves look common and ugly. Arcturus Black now looks a lot like his father Sirius and even quite a bit like Caelum’s mother, Bellatrix. 

Arcturus is well-dressed, wearing dark blue robes of a flashy cut and blue lizard skin shoes. Caelum wonders how Harriett managed to be raised alongside Acturus and never develop a sense of style other than a tendency for theft. Arcturus’s clothing might be loud but it is intentional, expensive and well-fitted. Harry is wearing his favourite old cardigan, a raggedy shirt, and what he suspects are a pair of his blue silk boxer shorts. Her feet are bare and dusty. She looks like a homeless street urchin. A pretty one perhaps but still pathetic. 

Arcturus reaches into his pocket and holds out a black jewelry box. It’s a clear invitation to take the box but Caelum doesn’t move towards it. Unexpected gifts are always a trap.

“Take it.”

Caelum eyes it suspiciously, is this some sort of joke product? Is this Sirius Black’s doing? Or the long-awaited revenge from James Potter?

Acturus smiles. His teeth are annoyingly perfect. Caelum wonders if his little cousin is handsomer than he is and scowls. 

“I got the idea from something my Dad gave to Draco Malfoy. I thought you might like to have this, even though it’s a few years late.” 

He giggles. “I had to steal it. Dad wouldn’t have understood why I wanted to give it to you.”

Caelum opens the box, confident that if he cannot shield himself from the probable explosion that Harriett will protect him. Inside the jewelry box is a small, spherical piece of crystal. Caelum knows what it is, he has seen his Mother’s from time to time but he’s never been allowed to hold it.

Granger is immediately at Caelum’s shoulder looking curious. 

“What is that? Is it magic? What does it do?”

Caelum is speechless. He had never even hoped to have a star light of his own. 

Archie smiles his perfect smile at Hermione. 

“I’ll explain it to you on the way to the clinic, we really should be going.”

With a hug for Harriett and a wave at Caelum, Arcturus and Hermione are gone.

Caelum is still eyeing the star light. He has seen his mother’s star light before, but he has never seen it shine. In his eyes his crystal is shining. His mother had never even been able to describe to him what it felt like to part of a moment like this. 

He looks at Harriett, meaning to tell her off for letting Granger and his blood traitor cousin into their sanctuary and causing a ruckus so early in the morning but a thought stops him. 

For the first time in the last two weeks, he understands something important about Harriett. There is raven on the Lestrange coat of arms on his sweater. He has known that his whole life, the coat of arms is on his clothing, stamped in his books and on his Heir Ring. He’s been forced to practice drawing the coat of arms. He writes letters with it on his stationary. Generations of his family have carried the symbol of the raven. And Harriett’s animagus form is a raven.

Harriett jabs him in the chest with her wand. 

“What are you looking at me like that for?” 

Caelum looks around him. The natural morning sky is murky blue with a hint of violet. It is the colour of that magical tunnel they went through to get to that restaurant three years ago after their internship presentations. It is the colour of a perfect Liberespirare potion. 

Caelum has never been surer of anything in his life. 

Caelum leans down and kisses her.


	18. Chapter 18

Caelum is sprawled on a couch he has conjured up in Harriet's new laboratory. He wishes he was back at the flat but Harry had insisted on coming to the Guild. She’s incredibly excited to have her own space at the Guild and he doesn’t want to ruin her first day for her by arguing about it.

Treeslider is lying on his chest. Harry brought the boomslang so that he could “hunt for mice” at the Guild. Caelum reflects that there is a big difference between talking to a creature and understanding it. He’s never seen Treeslider show any motivation towards hunting anything. Eventually he will go steal some frogs from one of the other labs for Treeslider.

Caelum's a bit concerned that Arcturus might be better looking than he is and it is weighing on his soul. He didn't like the Pretender but at least he was short, badly dressed and with bad hair. There's also the events of that morning to think about but he is intentionally not thinking about that. He looks around. Maybe Casillas has left behind a bottle of wine. Harriett certainly won't have brought anything- the house elves keep bringing bottles of milk for her.

Harriett wasn't happy about losing valuable work space to the couch but Caelum had insisted- where would he lounge in her lab if there was no couch? The floor? 

Harriett had stopped short of telling him that perhaps he shouldn't be in her lab when she was working but the meaning in the glares she occasionally gave him were clear. Caelum doesn't care. If she can take over his flat he can take over a couch in her office.

Bannett is also helping Harriett organize her laboratory and set up her work station. As the most senior apprentice he is the only one who knows how to charm protections into the walls and furniture and he has been showing Harry how to set up safe words to trigger shields in case of explosions. Caelum is highly amused by this. Harry doesn't need safety words and shields. He's tried to remind Harriett and Bannett of this but they're both ignoring him. Idiots. They can waste their time.

Harry has figured out how to make the laboratory floor soft, just like Caelum's laboratory in Dartmoor. She's drawing runes on the floor and the American is watching her in amazement and taking notes. Of course this is the result of taking her to his ancestral home- she's given secrets away to an American. His mother would be furious if she knew. He smiles contentedly.

Harry’s brought with her some of her supplies for her potion selling business and she and Bannett start setting them up by the window.

“What exactly is this suppose to be?” Bannett is holding up one of the bottles that Caelum knows Potter uses for her ward potion.

Harry draws herself up proudly. “That is one of the bottles for one of my inventions, a protective ward consciously imbued into a neutral base. Not as effective as the work a Wardsmith would do but it will withstand spells and even werewolves. My Dad had them commissioned.”

She pauses. “I can teach you the technique if you like, I taught Caelum. And Master Snape was able to learn my technique from my notes.” Caelum snorts from the couch. He observed her technique a few times and updated it. More of a collaboration than a lesson.

“Yes, I read your paper a few days ago when I realized who you were. And Caelum’s been bragging for months about being able to consciously imbue and the improvements he has made with the technique though he never mentions that you taught him.”

Bannett laughs. Caelum throws a pillow at him that Harry turns into a speck of dust. 

“What I meant was, what is this label supposed to mean?”

Bannett is pointing at the label on one of the Potter’s Portable Protection Potions. There is a rather innocent looking fawn hiding behind being a shield to avoid being menaced by a large and angry mountain lion. The label has been enchanted to move so every few seconds the lion tries to force his way through the ward and fails. The fawn meanwhile sleeps behind the ward in a sunbeam with not a care in the world. 

Caelum had never given the label any thought before. Marketing potions to the unwashed and ignorant masses is not of any interest to him.

Harry looks slightly embarrassed.

“Well my internship supervisor came up with the name. I thought it was a bit of a mouthful. I’d wanted to call it the Ward Maker. But he said I should have my name in the title. And then it confused everyone because they thought my Dad invented it. Now I usually just call it Protection Potion.”

“And the picture?”

Harry sighs. “Well my father designed that for my birthday. He calls me Fawn. So I guess that’s me behind the ward.”

“And the growling mountain lion?”

“I think that’s my friend Lionel. He goes by Leo.”

Harriett's voice fades into an embarrassed silence made all the more awkward by Caelum's uproarious laughter. Lord Potter thought that the Guildmaster's failure of a son was a threat?" The man was truly oblivious.

“My Dad doesn’t like me having older boy friends.”

Bannett stares at the ridiculous label again. He opens his mouth and closes it and opens it again.

“I think your Dad has some issues.”

Pucey wonders in to Harry’s laboratory. He beams at them.

“I was wondering where you all were.” 

Pucey looks around. “It’s not half bad in here now that Casillas is gone. Certainly smells better.” He grins at Harry. “And it’s even pretty in here now.”

Caelum sits up abruptly. Treeslider hisses irritably as he’s forced to slide down to Caelum’s lap. 

“You can’t take Harry to the Malfoy Summer Party. It’s indecent. You haven’t met her parents and she is still engaged to my cousin. It would be a tremendous slight on the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.”

Harry rolls her eyes at him. 

“I said I’d go with Ajax and I’m going. Now both of you get out, I need to set up this lab and you’re interrupting.”

Caelum is incensed. He isn’t interrupting. If anyone is interrupting it’s Pucey.

He leaves in a rage, Treeslider following behind him. Pucey follows laughing.

Bannett whistles. 

“Caelum also has some issues.”

Harry sighs and opens up a compartment of her potions bag that seems to contain an unending supply of hairs in test tubes. Each jar is carefully labelled with the name of the person she’s gotten it from and their physical or magical attributes that she finds interesting.

Bannett doesn’t comment on it.

“Sometimes I worry that he’s a bit like my Dad.”

Bannett pats her on the head. 

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that.”

Bannett pauses and considers James Potter’s obliviousness, over-protective tendencies and explosive fits of rage. It does really seem quite a bit like Caelum.

“Why is there a boomslang?”

Harry shrugs. “Why not?”

Why not indeed.


	19. Chapter 19

Caelum has peeled off one the Potters Portable Protection Potion labels from an empty bottle and is poking at it. The lion is roaring at the fawn while the fawn laughs behind the ward.

Harry looks at him mildly embarrassed. Caelum and Pucey have been making fun of the labels all day.

“Put that stupid thing away, I don’t know why you find it so funny.”

Caelum watches the lion clawing at the ward.

“It’s because you would probably set the lion on fire or melt it with your mind. You’d never bother with this ward potion, it’s for peasants. And why are you a doe anyway? It should be a raven.”

Caelum has been feeling much better about Harry’s animagus form now that he has come to the conclusion that he and Harriett are both spiritual ravens. He still hates the pigeons of course but ravens are practically sacrosanct in the Lestrange family. 

Harry is looking at him clearly offended. She doesn’t like having her potions questioned. 

“I’ll have you know that those potions have saved my life more than once. I wouldn’t sell them if they weren’t useful.”

The waiter comes by to offer them menus.

Caelum nods approvingly when the waiter presents Treeslider with a large field mouse. Treeslider is family now after all. He deserves all the mice.

Caelum orders a bottle of fairy wine and his meal from memory. He’s surprised when Harriett places her order in English. 

His eyes narrow at her. 

“You forgot how to speak French?” She’s forgotten more unlikely things he supposes.

Harriett sighs. “Remember when I told you that I learned French from a house-elf?”

Caelum nods. “And that was a lie.”

“No, it was the truth. And I’ve recently come to realize that I speak house-elf French though most people are too polite to point it out.”

Caelum laughs at her. “You’ll have to go to France and practice speaking with actual people. Most of the Lestrange family holdings are in France so I’ve been lots of times.” He looks at her not entirely confident. 

“I could take you I suppose.”

She smiles at him and pulls out a notebook and a self inking quill and starts writing in it. The notebook is labeled _Cure for the Fade, Volume II_. It would seem complexity ridiculous in the hands of anyone else, in her hands it’s just rude.

“Harriett!”

She doesn’t look up.

“What?”

“I’m not doing this for my health. Pay attention to me.”

She puts down the notebook with a sigh. 

“Master Snape always says that the Black Family is prone to dramatics and that tragically it’s not limited to the women in the family.”

Caelum is furious. No wonder his mother hates Snape, the impertinent, slimy half-blood.

“I’m not being dramatic. You’ve been ignoring me since our kiss. Everyone says so.”

Harry looks fairly exasperated. “We live together and spent all day at the Guild together. And now we are at dinner together at your favourite restaurant. How exactly am I ignoring you? And who is everyone?”

He’s saved from having to answer by the arrival of their appetizers and a bowl containing a live tadpole for Treeslider. 

Caelum watches her carefully take a bite of a frog’s leg and smile happily. His appetite is gone, he hasn’t even touched his wine.

“How can you sit there, calmly eating frog legs when we are having this conversation. You seem to me to be perfectly heartless.”

“They’re good for you. And they taste like chicken wings. And they’re not as good cold.”

“Is this all a joke to you?”

Caelum is incensed. His love is not a joke.

Harriett looks at him mildly concerned. 

“Was that your first kiss then? You should have said something. I’m sorry.”

Caelum splutters at her and drinks his wine, actually swallowing.

“The kiss was very nice. But I had potions to work on you see and a lot of things to get done today.” 

Caelum does not see at all. 

“There are other things besides potions,” he says finally. 

Harry considers. “Not really? But if it wasn’t for you I’d still be at Potter Place  
under house arrest. And not a real apprentice or at the Guild. So thank you for letting me stay with you.” 

She nods at Treeslider. “And Treeslider is grateful too I’m sure, I doubt my Dad would let him stay.”

Caelum stabs at his snails. At some point he lost control of the conversation and he doesn’t quite know how to get it back.

Harriett looks at Caelum thoughtfully. 

“Do you want to come to Potter’s Place for dinner on Sunday?”

He chokes on his wine. That was unexpected. She’s completely mad this one.

“What are you talking about?”

Harriett looks at him like he is slow. 

“I have to go for family dinner on Sunday. Every Sunday actually. Would you like to come?”

She take another bite of her dish. “You know these are really good if you want to try one. You’ve barely touched your appetizer.”

“Why do you want me to meet your parents?”

“Well you’ve met my Dad already and he sort of said you could come for dinner in the future? And I think that you will like my Mom, everyone does. And my sister. And Archie and Hermione will probably be there. And my uncles.”

“And we are going to tell them what exactly?” 

“Well we’re dating now, aren’t we? Did you really need me to say it out loud?”

Caelum feels much better about life.

He pours himself another glass of wine and drinks it, disappearing it after swallowing.

Harry looks at him furiously.

“How are you doing that? I worked on it all  
summer and I couldn’t figure it out. You have to teach me or at least give me a hint.”

“I’m not telling.” 

He was never ever going to tell her.

“Are you coming for dinner?”

He shrugs. 

“I suppose if I have nothing better to do.”

She looks ready to throw the last leg at him and instead opens up her notebook and starts writing again.

Caelum drinks more wine and smirks. He gives her last frog leg to Treeslider who eats it happily. 

Everything is fine.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [clothes & crushes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727648) by [dalekchung](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalekchung/pseuds/dalekchung)
  * [The Tale of Carrot the Pigeon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29840205) by [BlueFin314](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFin314/pseuds/BlueFin314)




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